


No More Questions

by CloseToSomethingReal



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anyways please read it its better than these tags i never take tags seriously, Basically just some angst i churned out, Crowley as Raphael, M/M, Michael almost helps kill her brother and is not proud, No backstory we dive into this headcannon as though it was established cannon like men, No explanation as to whats going on, Thats the headcannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloseToSomethingReal/pseuds/CloseToSomethingReal
Summary: "The Archangel Michael. That's… unlikely." The Serpent breathed.Michael contemplated him.There was something familiar about him...





	1. Chapter 1

_ I will  _ not  _ be questioned! _

Crowley grit his teeth and tugged at the bonds at his wrists. 

When he and Aziraphale had figured out what the prophecy was telling them, it hadn't really occurred to him that their plan involved going back to Heaven. Back to the white bird cage in the sky which he had never thought he would see again. 

Had never really wanted to see again. 

But lo and behold, Gabriel, Uriel and Sandalphon had dragged him bound and gagged back to Heaven. Of course, they thought they had Aziraphale, they would never guess they had a demon in his place. 

Never mind exactly  _ who  _ that demon had been. 

Gabriel would never believe it if he was told who he was talking to. Who he had captured. 

He had also never expected to see his siblings again. Hadn't wanted to. 

It had been so very long since he had. 

As long as it had been since he had really had the right to call them his siblings. 

But he had walked on consecrated ground for Aziraphale and burned the soles of his feet so bloody he couldn't walk for a month, he had betrayed hell for Aziraphale, he had driven through an impassable ring of fire for Aziraphale. 

He could face his siblings for Aziraphale.

"Ah! Aziraphale! So glad you could join us."

"You could have just sent a message." It came out snarkier than he had meant. But surely God's precious messenger could have sent a message. 

He harbored no love for Gabriel. Not anymore. Not after the apocalypse that wasn't. 

Maybe once. Long, long ago. More than six thousand years ago. 

Before the fall. "I mean, a kidnapping in broad daylight." 

"Call it was it was, an extraordinary rendition!" Gabriel corrected. 

Crowley fought the urge to glare at him. Gabriel had always been a touch show offish, always wanted credit he believed was due. 

A shame God's messenger wouldn't take the same humbling fall God's healer had gotten. 

_ Why must they suffer, Mother?  _

_ It is my will.  _

But he was not Crowley, and he was certainly not God's healer. He was Aziraphale for the moment, and Aziraphale wouldn't glare. 

So he forced himself to be calm, and continue to just watch Gabriel intently. 

"Now. Have we heard from our new associate?" Gabriel asked. 

"He's on his way," Uriel said. 

Crowley had already been long gone when that particular sister had come into existence. The last one to know him had been Gabriel.

Gabriel grinned. "He's on his way. I think you're gonna like this, I really do. And I bet you didn't see this one coming." 

Crowley was willing to bet that he had. It would be why it was he, in Aziraphale's body, had been the one to go to Heaven and was now facing three of his younger siblings. His brother had always been predictable. Michael was a worthier opponent than Gabriel. She had wit and a brain behind her. 

Gabriel had learned to recite the meaning of the word ineffable before anything else. It was very telling when it came to his every other trait. 

Well, ex-siblings and ex-brother. He was fairly sure that if any of them did know, if God hadn't kept the second felled archangel to herself, they wouldn't still be thinking of a demon as their brother. 

He had heard from Aziraphale that the common rumour was that Raphael was making stars in some corner of the universe. 

He hadn't corrected the angel. 

Footsteps stalked along the ground behind Crowley. He didn't twist to see. Watched the lower demon walk across the floor. "You don't get this view down in the basement," he remarked, glancing around before tossing  _ something  _ at a containment circle on the ground. 

Just as Crowley had thought. 

A pillar of infernal flames sprung up from the ground. Oh, this was going to be  _ fun.  _

Gabriel looked down at him with a false smile. His purple eyes betrayed him, told Crowley exactly what Gabriel was thinking. 

Oh, he was happy. Happy to see Aziraphale burn away to nothing. 

Crowley fought the urge to smile back. Aziraphale wouldn't. Aziraphale's face may have betrayed his every thought but the angel wouldn't have smiled.

"So. With one act of treason, you averted the war." 

Crowley did smile, feigning nervousness, then. "Well, I think, for the greater good-" 

"Don't talk to me about the great good, sunshine, I'm the Archangel fucking Gabriel." 

_ And I'm the Archangel fucking Raphael, so I outrank you.  _ Crowley knew better than to say it.

_ But why, Mother?  _

_ No more questions, my Raphael. My will must not be questioned.  _

"The greater good was that we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all!" 

Uriel marched herself over to Crowley. He decided immediately that he didn't like this particular archangel. 

Not that he really liked any of them, anymore. 

But he had loved them, once. His brothers and sister, now torn apart by the hands of God herself. Ripped away from each other. 

_ I WILL NOT HAVE YOU QUESTIONING ME, RAPHAEL!  _

"Up." Uriel ordered, pulling the ropes from his wrist. Crowley stood, looked at the fire, and then at Gabriel. 

Then back again. 

He supposed he had better plea. Really, he would gladly step into the fire without complaint, it might even restore some of his severely expended power, but Aziraphale couldn't want to be destroyed. 

So as much at his made him want to vomit, to beg his younger brother for his life, Crowley had to try. "I don't suppose I can persuade you do reconsider? We're meant to be the good guys, for Heaven's sake." 

Gabriel was clearly unimpressed by that attempt. "And for Heaven's sake, we're meant to make examples out of traitors. So, into the flame." 

Crowley gave another nervous smile. Took a few steps forward. The heat bathed his face.

He couldn't wait to see the look on his brother's face. "I- Well- lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion." 

"Shut your stupid mouth, and die already." 

Another fake smile. Crowley's blood started to boil. 

Gabriel could do and say what he liked about demons, but that was a step too far.  _ No one _ spoke to Aziraphale like that. 

He set his jaw, and walked directly into the pillar. He could feel Gabriel's sadistic smile, Uriel and Sandalphon's eyes on him, eagerly observing his destruction. 

The fire smarted, nothing in Hell was painless. It didn't burn like the fall, it stung like the aftermath. 

_ Welcome home, brother.  _

_ This is not my home. _

_ It is now. _

Crowley flexed his fingers, cracked his neck. 

The smile morphed to shock. The demon could feel, just as he had predicted, his strength returning. 

He turned towards his younger siblings and roared, expelling fire in a jet towards them. 

Gabriel grabbed them and jumped them back. 

Crowley wouldn't have let then get hit, anyways. 

"It may be worse than we thought," Gabriel said. 

"What is he?" Uriel asked. 

Crowley's first response would have been "the Archangel Raphael, the Healer." and to attempt to pull rank over what had been his youngest brother, at the time of his fall. The healer did, in the grand scheme of things, outrank the messenger, and he was older than Gabriel, after all.

Another part of him revolted, wanted to burn the part that said Raphael-the-Healer in this infernal fire, and say "The Serpent of Eden." To transform into that form and lunge at the Archangels and exact his fury for the harm they had tried to cause Aziraphale. 

But he was neither of those things right now. He was Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate. 

So he said nothing. 

Simply stepped out of the fire. "I believe it is best for everyone, Gabriel, if I am left alone, from now on." 

He patted out the remaining smolders on the shoulders of Aziraphale's coat and resolved to miracle away the damage before he met the angel in St. James park. 

Gabriel nodded. 

Crowley forced himself not to sneer at his younger brother as he walked by to leave. 

At the younger brother he had once loved almost more than anyone else. 

At the only sibling of his whom Crowley didn't know, but knew what his fate had been. 

It was Gabriel's idea. 

They each a traitor to deal with. Heaven, the Principality Aziraphale, Hell, the demon Crowley, Serpent of Eden. 

And sure, Heaven could have given a tongue-lashing and sent the Principality on his way. 

But then Hell had come seeking something only Heaven could give them.

Utter destruction. 

And well, if Hell was going to make an example out of their traitor demon, Gabriel had reasoned, then Heaven should do the same with their traitorous angel. 

And thus, and exchange. Heaven got Infernal Fire in exchange for the contents of the pitcher Michael was holding in her hands. 

Michael had offered to go to Hell. Gabriel had been going to send Uriel, keep Michael to witness the Principality's demise, but the idea of watching an angel's destruction, even if that angel was a traitor, had sat wrong with Michael. 

After all, the traitors last time had simply fell. Michael, Gabriel and her missing brother Raphael had witnessed the fall firsthand, seen their brother Samael fall from grace, fall from Heaven to the sulphurous pits of Hell. 

Gabriel and Michael had watched in silence. 

Raphael had cried for their brother. Inconsolably, although Michael and Gabriel had tried to comfort him. 

After witnessing Samael's fall, Michael's younger brother had left Heaven. She hadn't seen him since he had cried watching Samael plummet light years away.

God assured her that Raphael was making the stars at her orders, but Michael knew that Raphael had likely asked to be allowed to leave and been granted that assignment as a favour. He hadn't the stomach for the war, hadn't the stomach to witness God's wrath. He was their Mother's healer and he loved to paint the stars, he was not made for war and spite. 

He was made of softer things. 

Michael missed him. 

The fall, as could be attested by the witnesses, had been brutal enough. 

Infernal Fire was another thing entirely. 

So Michael had said she would bring the Holy Water and avoid witnessing the destruction of an angel. 

She was starting to regret it, as the rickety elevator descended, far faster than was necessary, shaking and rattling and creaking like it was about to send her plummeting into the depths. The lights flickered. 

Still, she remained calm and poised. The demons would know better than to cause her harm. 

The elevator shuddered to a halt and pinged. The doors opened. 

"-the punishment fit the crime." Hastur was gloating. 

Michael could hardly blame him. She walked out of the elevator, down a hallway of similarly flickering lights. 

Stepped into the room at the end. 

Five demons awaited her. Beelzebub on their throne, flies buzzing their face. Hastur stood next to a bathtub, a grin on his face. Dagon stood beside the throne, a guide beside her, both smiling pointedly at the remaining demon. 

The Serpent of Eden didn't look as calm and confident as he had in Eden. 

It was a better look for him. Michael had long wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. 

"The Archangel Michael. That's… unlikely." The Serpent breathed. 

Michael contemplated him.

There was something familiar about him. 

Not in his dark sunglasses or short cropped hair or black blazer, but something in the way he stood.

"Cooperation with our old enemies!" Dragon's pointed-tooth grin grew. 

"Well wank-wings? You've brought the stuff?" Hastur asked expectantly. 

Michael looked away. The demon Crowley did too. 

She brandished her pitcher. "I did. I'll be back to collect it." 

She held it out for Hastur to take. He stepped backwards. 

"Eh, no, I think perhaps you ought to do the honors. I've seen what that stuff can do," he said. 

Michael supposed that was fair. She stepped over to the bathtub, held the pitcher at arm's length, and poured. 

She could see the demon's eyebrows raise above his glasses as he stared at the tub in horror.

"That's Holy Water," he realized. 

"The holiest, yes," Michael confirmed. 

There was something very familiar about the sickened look on the Serpent of Eden's face, the way he grew pale and looked weak, face slack. 

His red hair seemed to stand out more the paler he got. He looked like he may vomit, although demons and angels didn't do that. 

She had known someone, once, with red hair. 

Beelzebub sighed. "It's not that we don't trust you, Michael, but obviously we don't trust you. Hastur, test it," they ordered. 

Michael didn't care to watch a demon be destroyed either, much less two. 

She couldn't stop herself contemplating the treacherous demon on more time.

He really did seem familiar. 

He stared back at her in abject horror. 

Michael shook her head and stepped back down the hallway. 

Made it back to the elevator, and closed the door. 

Where had she seen that look before? 

_ Staring down from Heaven as Samael fell. _

Michael dropped her pitcher. It shattered into nothing but sparkles of glass at her feet. 

That was impossible, wasn't it? That face wasn't in Hell. It was one of Lucifer's tricks. 

Raphael was making the stars. Not about to be forced into Holy Water. 

The elevator was accelerating fast towards the surface. Michael would have to return soon, but Beelzebub had insisted she return to the surface between the delivery and the pick-up. 

Michael took a deep breath. 

Lucifer, or Samael or Satan or whatever he called himself these days, wouldn't let his younger brother be destroyed. If one thing was certain it was that neither he nor Michael had been able to not adore their younger brother. Raphael was just a likeable sort. 

But perhaps he didn't know. Didn't know what Beelzebub had planned for the demon Crowley. It wasn't impossible. 

But surely God would have said something. At least to Michael and Gabriel, the last of the Archangels to have met Raphael, if he had been one of the fallen. Raphael was their brother, after all. 

But God's plans were ineffable. Maybe she wouldn't say. 

Michael tried to draw to memory what Raphael had looked like when she had last seen him, golden eyes full of tears, the same sick look on his face as the demon had worn, long, fiery red curls all in a mess as he sobbed into Gabriel's shoulder- 

Michael slammed her finger into the down arrow on the elevator. 

There could be no doubt about it. 

Michael had just brought about the tools to her own brother's demise. To her beloved younger brother's absolute destruction. 

She pressed her finger into the button again and again and again, sent up every prayer she could think of, tried for a miracle. The elevator slowed to a halt and started the track back down but it wasn't nearly fast enough and she wasn't going to make it in time she knew already that she was far, far too late, all it would have taken was a single drop of Holy Water and Michael would be too late. 

But still she prayed for a miracle prayed for a chance to save her brother. 

The door pinged open and Michael rushed down the hall. 

It was only when she heard sizzling that she slowed to a halt, tears pricking her eyes for the first time in thousands of years. 

She had not cried for Samael. 

But how could she not cry for her once soft and curious little brother, whom she had vowed to protect. First from anything, and then from Lucifer, after his fall. 

A vow of which she had  _ failed.  _ She had brought about her beloved brother's demise. Destruction. Annihilation. 

The tears slipped down her cheeks. 

She wiped them away, fought to compose herself. She would cry later. Find Gabriel, tell him the truth and mourn with him. 

For now, she had a job to do. 

She miracled herself a new pitcher, just remembering that her's had shattered on the elevator floor. 

"Nothing to see, nothing to see here!"

Beelzebub shouting at the crowd of observers jolted Michael to action. She walked down the hall and back into the makeshift courthouse. 

"I came to bring back the uh-"

Something shifted in the tub. Splashed water up the side. Michael turned to see what it was. 

It was the demon Crowley, no, the Archangel Raphael, lounging in the bathtub, still fully intact. "Oh Lord," Michael breathed, although deep inside she had to admit that all she wanted to do was run up and hug the demon, or perhaps not demon, that was soaking in Holy Water and beg for his forgiveness. 

"Michael! Dude, do us a quick miracle, I need a bath towel," Raphael held out a hand. 

His eyes were no longer the soft gold. They were a harsh yellow, serpentine, with slits for pupils. Unnerving, unnatural and unfriendly. 

Michael snapped her fingers and handed him the towel. She was on autopilot, unable to even try to process what was happening. A part of her still wanted to deny that the serpent in the garden could have ever been her sweet brother Raphael and she wanted to spread her wings and search the cosmos until she found him painting stars like she had been told he was doing but she knew the search would lead her here. 

Now that she knew, there was no mistaking. He was more gaunt, had lost his cherubin glow, his eyes were wrong and he had cut his hair but it couldn't not be him. 

"I think it would be better for everyone if I were to be left alone in the future," he said. 

He even sounded almost the same. His voice was rougher, but still nearly the same. 

Raphael looked over the demons, who one by one all nodded. 

Then at Michael. Fixed her in his yellow but yet familiar gaze and made her voice die in her chest. 

She nodded as well, though she had every intention of tracking him down the moment she could. 

"Right." 

Raphael scrunched up his nose and gave a mocking smile, a smile that did not belong on her brother's face, and climbed out of the tub. 

Long after both she and Raphael had left Hell, Michael found herself wondering why Mother had lied. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Gabriel had returned from a task assigned by the Almighty. He had gone to check in, that was all. Gone to report his success and ask for a new task.  _

_ He hadn't meant to be eavesdropping.  _

_ He hadn't meant to make himself witness to the fall no soul in Heaven knew had happened.  _

_ He had just been trying to be a good angel, and a good son.  _

_ Perhaps he should have been more focused on being a good brother.  _

_ Perhaps he should have interrupted when he heard Mother start to raise her voice. When he recognized the tone she had used with Samael before his fall, now turned against another brother.  _

_ Perhaps he should have stepped in when Raphael had asked again. "But why?"  _

_ Raphael had only ever wanted to know why.  _

_ Perhaps he just should not have been peering out from behind a wall when their Mother had started to shout. When Raphael had taken another step and the ground had disappeared beneath him.  _

He knew that no one else knew. Not Michael, not Uriel, not Sandalphon and certainly any ordinary member of the host. He was the only one. 

He knew not what had happened to Raphael after that. Whether Samael, now Lucifer, had welcomed their middle brother or had spurned him and his fall. 

His fall for asking questions. 

And thousands of years later, Gabriel wished he had said something. Gabriel wished he had tried to save his brother. Instead, he had just watched him plummet downwards. 

Privately, although it was odd, he hoped that particular demon, whom he had once called brother, had already been destroyed. Raphael would have hated being a demon. It wasn't in his nature to be cruel or to tempt. 

He would rather his brother be gone than be suffering. 

But he had no way of finding that out. And for now, Gabriel needed to await his sister and assure himself that Hell's execution had gone better than Heaven's. So long as one part of the treacherous pair was gone, things should have gotten easier to control. 

So he stood by the elevator and awaited Michael's return. 

He didn't have to wait long. The elevator pinged, the doors opened, and Michael stepped out, holding a pitcher full of Holy Water. 

Her hands were shaking. She looked like she had been crying, face blotchy and eyes puffy, but that was impossible. Michael didn't cry. Archangels didn't cry. The only one that Gabriel had ever seen crying was an Archangel no longer. 

"Is it done?" Gabriel asked expectantly. "Because we-"

"We need to talk."

It wasn't like Michael to interrupt. Gabriel nodded, concern filling his violet eyes. What could Michael need to talk about? "To my office, then?"

Michael nodded. 

"Did the execution work, at least?" Gabriel asked, leading the way. 

Michael shook her head. 

"It didn't here either. Aziraphale would have killed us, Michael! He blew Infernal Fire towards us!" 

Michael didn't respond. 

Something was clearly very wrong. 

"Can you believe the nerve of-"

"Someone you were trying to obliterate trying to do the same to you?" 

When she put it like that, it didn't sound as horrible of Aziraphale. Gabriel sighed. Opened the door to his office, stepped inside. Gently pried the pitcher out of his sister's hands and placed it on the desk. "So what's wrong, Michael?" He asked. 

Michael, hands still shaking, closed the door behind them. "It's shocking. Disturbing, even," she warned, wringing her hands. "I shouldn't even be talking about it it goes against what we were told I could be struck down for believing it but I haven't a choice but to believe it. There's no way that I can't." 

"Michael, what did you find out?" Gabriel asked patiently. 

"Raphael is not creating the stars."

"I'm sorry, dear boy. Heaven can't have been pleasant for you to see again." 

"Looks more like a bird cage now than when I had left, angel. They really do have something against freedom, don't they?" Crowley sighed. 

Or perhaps he had just been afforded enough freedom that he had never noticed the enclosed atmosphere. After all, he and Gabriel had spent a good amount of time making stars and galaxies, and he had spent even more in the garden, working on plants and animals. 

"Perhaps a little. I can't say Hell is any more pleasant." 

"I suppose not." 

Aziraphale contemplated him. Crowley fought the urge to shift back and away from the angel's grey-blue stare. 

But he didn't need or want to hide from Aziraphale. Not any longer. So he sat, fixed in the angel's gaze. "How much do you remember of Heaven, Crowley?" 

Crowley wondered if he should be honest. That he remembered every second of every day he had spent in Heaven, a place that had glowed with warmth and love, at least for he and his siblings, nothing like the cold and sterile landscape left there now. 

He wondered if it had only been that way for the Archangels. 

He considered lying. Claiming to have been a seraphim or a principality or anything but an Archangel. Better yet, claiming not to even remember what he had been compared to what had become of him. 

But he looked over at Aziraphale, staring expectantly at him over the rim of a wine glass. 

_ Would I lie to you, angel?  _

_ Of course, you're a demon, it's what you do.  _

But it wasn't. 

He couldn't lie to Aziraphale. "Everything. It would be too much like a blessing to forget what you can no longer have." 

He didn't like to talk about it. Didn't like to remember it. Seeing Gabriel had been an unpleasant enough reminder, he was glad Michael had gone to give Hastur the Holy Water. 

He wasn't sure if he would have held up to his sister's presence, too. 

Aziraphale looked uncertain of what to do with that knowledge. Like he had more questions but didn't dare put them to voice, lest they hurt him or upset him. 

Crowley didn't feel the need to encourage him to think otherwise. If he could get out of this conversation without revealing the truth of the entire matter to Aziraphale, that would suit him quite nicely. 

He sipped his wine, waiting to see what the angel would do next. 

Aziraphale had always wanted to meet Raphael. He had admitted that to be so many times. He said that Gabriel and Michael scared him, but nothing about Raphael seemed frightening. 

That, and he hadn't been seen in six thousand years, wouldn't it be something to be the one who found him? 

Crowley didn't have the heart to tell him that Raphael had found him. On the garden wall. 

"You must have held a good rank, for it to be a blessing to forget. That or a really horrible one." 

"Is there a question there, angel?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale smiled nervously. "Perhaps." 

"Then you'd best ask it, if you want an answer." 

"Crowley…" 

Crowley just smiled. He was a demon, after all, he couldn't be expected to just spill every truth about himself. 

"Fine. Did I know you before you fell?" 

"No. Only three people really did." 

"Which three?" 

Oh, Aziraphale was a sly one, sometimes. He was trying to formulate a guess as to who Crowley had been. 

Oh well. He would play. "Lucifer, Michael and Gabriel." 

Everyone in Heaven knew, or thought they knew, that only one Archangel had fallen. Or at least, Crowley was fairly certain they hadn't been informed, and the fact that Aziraphale was no closer to guessing than he had been before confirmed it. 

Crowley twirled his wine glass in his fingers. Stared expectantly at Aziraphale. 

The angel sighed. "Fine, I haven't got a clue. Who were you, then? Not many were known only by three Archangels."

"Does it matter?" 

"No, but I'm curious." 

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back." 

Crowley smiled. "Curiosity felled the angel, then." 

Aziraphale knew that one was true, Crowley rather insisted upon the fact that curiosity was his only crime. "Is knowing the answer worth risking it?" 

"You're the only demon I know that fell for asking questions. I rather suspect you asked something more serious than the former name of a demon," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley supposed he may be right. 

He had, after all, questioned the ineffable plan. Why the humans had to suffer, why Lucifer had to fall. 

"Are you sure you want to know the answer?" 

"Why shouldn't I?" 

Crowley shrugged. "You've lied to God before, but do you want to find out that God lied to you?" 

"What did she lie about?" 

"The fate of one of her angels." 

Aziraphale seemed to notice that he was going to get his answer and smiled. "And which angel is that, Crowley?" 

"Raphael."

"You  _ knew? _ You  _ knew _ Raphael had fallen and you didn't tell me?" 

"I wasn't supposed to know, Michael, no one was supposed to know! Well, no member of the heavenly host. The demons can know whatever," Gabriel said. He seemed agitated. 

"Did you know you sent me to orchestrate his demise, too, Gabriel?" 

The look on her brother's face told her that he hadn't. "There's no way. There's absolutely no way that the Serpent of Eden is our brother. None. He wouldn't do that." 

"As you've just informed me that you knew all along, Gabriel, he's a  _ demon!  _ Up until recently, he did everything Lucifer ordered!" 

"Lucifer wouldn't have permitted the destruction of his brother. The Serpent can't be Raphael. I suspect-"

"I know what I saw, Gabriel! How did you not see it? Had six thousand years made you unable to recognize our brother? It was  _ him!  _ It was  _ Raphael  _ whom they forced into the Holy Water!" 

"But he didn't die!" Gabriel said desperately. "You said he didn't die, didn't you? That the demon Crowley still lives?" 

"Yes…" Michael agreed. 

"Perhaps he isn't a demon at all, if he is our brother! Perhaps he was acting on Mother's orders and- and- and she knew I was watching so she put on an act! If he was truly a demon, he would be dead!" 

Gabriel's excitement at his suggestion would have made Michael's heart hurt, if she had a real heart. He was a little brother, desperately hoping that his older brother would come home again. 

_ Could  _ come home again.

And Gabriel had dealt with the knowledge that Raphael had fallen by himself for six thousand years. Had kept it from Michael so that she could believe what God had said, and that Raphael was safe and happy, making stars. 

And how could she stay mad? 

She pulled her brother into a hug. "I suspect it won't be such a pretty ending, Gabriel. It had something to do with why you couldn't kill the principality with Infernal Fire," she whispered. 

"But surely there's a chance. Perhaps the humans falling was part of the ineffable plan." 

Michael couldn't help but humour him. Allow him a hope she didn't have. 

"Perhaps."

Raphael had been too terrified to be anything but a very, very lucky demon. 

Perhaps Archangels couldn't be destroyed by Holy Water. It would be too easy to destroy Lucifer if they could. 

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there? Our brother betrayed Hell for the sake of the world and an angel. Find the principality, we find Raphael." 

"Angel, please. That's all I wish to say in the matter." 

"But why would she lie? Why would she tell us you were making stars?" 

Crowley sighed. He should have known it would not be that easy. He couldn't just tell Aziraphale and expect him to drop it. "She had already lost Lucifer. Another Archangel may have seemed like she was losing control. No one knows. Not even Gabriel or Michael." 

"Do you miss them?" 

Would the angel really not drop the subject? 

"They were my siblings, angel, of course I miss them." 

"Was Uriel always like that?" 

"I never met her or Sandalphon." 

Aziraphale was quiet for a bit after that. Long enough that Crowley thought the conversation was done. 

Good. He didn't talk about this for a  _ reason.  _ It hurt to think about. For the most part, he  _ didn't _ think about it. Sure, now Gabriel was on his mind, after the insults suffered at the airbase and for Aziraphale, but typically, he avoided reminders. 

"What did you ask?" 

Crowley had been about to get up and pour more wine. 

He froze. "Pardon?" 

"What did you ask God, Crowley, that made her throw you away?" 

At least the angel wasn't calling him Raphael. He suspected Michael or Gabriel would, if they ever found out. 

Raphael was no more his name than Crawly was. 

"I asked her why the humans had to suffer." 

"And she spurned you just for that?" 

Crowley sighed. "I also asked why… why… why casting Lucifer out was necessary. He was my  _ brother,  _ angel, and she made his fall a spectacle and an example to all of Heaven. His fall and all those who followed him." 

"Why would you defend Lucifer?" 

"Because he is my  _ brother!  _ I still would, given the chance! You can't turn your back on family like that." 

"Lucifer clearly has, if he left you to be destroyed." 

"I  _ know."  _

Crowley's voice cracked. He cleared his throat angrily and looked away from Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale seemed to know anyways. "I didn't mean to upset, Crowley, my dear boy. Come here." 

He set his wine glass to the side, held his arms out. 

Crowley hadn't been one for hugs since his fall, but he gave in anyways. 

Aziraphale reached up and plucked the glasses off his face, set them to the side and hugged him tightly. 

Crowley didn't say anything. He wasn't really sure he could. 

Six thousand years and he couldn't fucking talk about it. Lucifer bragged about leading the revolution and his brother didn't even want to acknowledge his own fall.

He buried his face in the shoulder of Aziraphale's coat and pretended the angel couldn't tell he was crying from the growing wet spot. 

"You shouldn't have fallen for curiosity and concern." 

"I did and it's too late for what should have been." 

Aziraphale seemed to realize that his words weren't helping. He fell silent, stroking soft fingers down the arch of the demon's spine. 

"Principality Aziraphale."

The angel sat bolt upright. Crowley let himself be jostled about, but didn't look up. 

He knew that voice. 

And he didn't think he could face it's source without lashing out for the insults suffered last time. 

"Gabriel! And Michael! Crowley, dear, please sit up, I'll get our guests some tea." 

"Don't you dare leave me alone with them," Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale's shirt, but the angel did just that. 

Crowley sighed, wiped his eyes and turned around with his best attempt at a glare. "Aziraphale told me you were to leave us alone from now on, Gabriel. Michael, I know you made  _ me _ that promise personally." 

He knew he was in trouble when Gabriel gasped. "You were right, sister, it's him!" 

Oh, absolutely  _ not.  _ "What's that, angel? You need help with the tea? I'll be right-" 

"Raphael." 

"No." Crowley shook his head adamantly. "No, no no no I think you're  _ quite mistaken. _ I'm not the healer I'm the Serpent of Eden that you tried to help kill not two days ago." 

"Brother," Michael insisted. She took a step forwards. "I  _ knew  _ it was you!" 

That did it. Crowley sprang to his feet, narrowed his yellow eyes. "Did you,  _ sister?  _ Is that why you helped them try to destroy me, because you knew it was me?" He demanded. 

Michael retreated. "Dear Lord, no, Raphael I-"

"Crowley," the demon growled, "not Raphael. Crowley. Raphael is among the things  _ Mother  _ took away my right to be." 

Michael winced. If it hadn't been six thousand years since his last civil conversation with his sister, he would have felt guilty. "Crowley, then. I didn't know it was you until after, brother, and I swear to you and tried to get back in time to save you…" 

"But you didn't need saving!" Gabriel said brightly. 

Crowley eyed his younger brother suspiciously. He still stood as far from his siblings as he could with a couch in the way of his backwards retreat. 

"You survived the Holy Water you can't be a demon! Surely Mother must have sent you in disguise to keep an eye on Luci-"

They wanted him to go back. 

Crowley folded his arms over his chest. "Go home, Gabriel, I an a demon through and through and I am  _ not  _ you brother. Not anymore." 

"You have always been our brother, Crowley. A fall cannot change that and he is right! If Holy Water cannot kill you then you cannot-" 

"It wasn't him who bathed in Holy Water, Michael." 

Aziraphale had stepped back into the room. "I made tea, like I said. You should sit." 

"No, they shouldn't. The Archangels should leave." 

"Brother, please. Don't send us away," Michael pleaded. "Not now that we're so close to having you back …" 

"You're not! You're not so close to having me back, Michael, I survived Holy Water because Aziraphale went to Hell in my stead! I'm not your brother and I quite frankly believe that I never was!" 

"You don't." 

Crowley couldn't believe that admitting to the switch hadn't immediately changed the tone of conversation. That they hadn't found out that this was no disguise and fled to regroup and restart their efforts of execution. 

"I know you, little brother, and you have missed us as much as we missed you." 

Michael was moving forwards again. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, tensed as she got closer. 

She placed her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm's length before throwing her arms around him. "Oh,  _ brother."  _

And Crowley broke. 

If he had thought he had been crying before, now that was nothing. He full-out sobbed against Michael's chest. Gabriel rushed over to join their hug. 

"You shouldn't have fallen for being concerned for Lucifer. We can fix this, brother, you can come home you can be Raph-"

"Hush, Gabriel," Michael said softly. She led them carefully to a seat, kept a tight hold of her brother. 

Aziraphale stepped out of the room. 

"You can't fix it, Gabriel, only accept it," Crowley whispered. 

"How can I accept that Mother cast not one but two of my brothers away?" 

"I've accepted things, Gabriel. You must too. I cannot unfall and I cannot be your brother." 

"Oh, Crowley," Michael said. "No fall could ever make you not our brother." 

She rubbed his back as his sobbing redoubled with her words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be a chapter 3 here someday but for now it seems complete so this is all


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still marked as complete for a reason, it's that at any point it could be complete but for now I'm taking requests for chapters and am currently working on a chapter 4. If you have requests, I'm trying to keep this in a chronological order but I'll definitely take requests and may open another story if they interfere with each other!

Aziraphale still found it extremely unnerving to have two Archangels visiting the bookshop. Whether they were Crowley's angelic siblings or not. 

That part was possibly more unnerving, the thought of Michael and Gabriel and even worse,  _ Lucifer  _ being Crowley's siblings. Aziraphale could barely believe it. He wouldn't have, if he hadn't known that Crowley wouldn't lie to him and that both Michael and Gabriel wouldn't be fooled by a demon's trick. 

Crowley  _ was  _ Raphael. An Archangel whom Aziraphale had hoped to meet for thousands of years. God's healer. An angel widely reputed to be responsible for the creation of large parts of the cosmos. 

It was rather had to believe that the same being who had forged stars and healed the sick had been the cause of the first sin and been awarded credit for the Black Plague. 

It did explain why the plague had made Crowley so upset, though.

But even it explaining things didn't make it easier to believe.

But if there was one thing to be said about the matter, it was that he had very rarely seen Crowley so  _ happy  _ as he was, sitting on the couch in between his siblings. Michael was carding fingers through his red hair, Gabriel sat with his head leaned against his brother's shoulder. 

Aziraphale could only guess at what it must have felt like, to have had God's love ripped away in the fall. Even worse, in the same instant to lose the love of one's siblings. He was thrilled that Crowley had it back and it kept him from ever protesting that the angels who had made his life difficult for ages, even the one who had said something so horrible about Aziraphale that Crowley refused to repeat it but had clearly been furious about it during the botched execution now came to visit at least twice a week. 

Mostly, he stayed away. He didn't want to make himself a cause for conflict. It was only a matter of time before Gabriel said another horrible thing and he didn't want to be the cause of a fight amongst the barely reunited siblings. 

He wondered if he was flattering himself, imagining that Crowley would pick a fight with Gabriel for his sake. If he would risk the fragile reunion he had with his brother to defend the angel. 

Then again, it didn't seem that fragile. If Aziraphale didn't know better, he would say it seemed as though they had never been apart to start with. They certainly acted like there wasn't a six thousand year gap between them. As though Crowley had been on a quick vacation to Earth. 

It was, if Aziraphale was honest. He'd never really had a sibling the way the Archangels had each other. It wasn't like he was jealous or anything, just… 

Really  _ happy _ for Crowley. 

Aziraphale had tuned out the quiet conversation going on. "So, Michael, Gabriel, do anything interesting lately?" 

Small talk wasn't his strong suit. 

Gabriel looked at him as though he had just done something horrible. 

Which Aziraphale then realized he had interrupted the Archangel. Crowley and Michael didn't seem bothered, but Gabriel seemed offended. 

And almost a little repulsed at  _ being  _ addressed by a principality now that said principality wasn't his man on the ground.

"Principalities should stay out of conversations with higher beings." 

Aziraphale decided just to take it. "Of course. Dreadfully sorry, Archangel Gabriel, won't happen again. I'm… I'm going to go make tea." 

"See that it doesn't, Principality. I always knew you-"

"There's no need to be rude, Gabriel, he just interrupted, it's not like he kicked a puppy or sprayed mud on your suit or killed anybody," Crowley said, a hint of a scoff in his voice. 

"He should show his superiors the proper respect!" 

"And you should show him the proper respect!" Crowley retorted, jumping to his feet. Michael sighed. 

"He's just a Principality," Gabriel said dismissively. 

Crowley bristled. Wings flared, Aziraphale had to lean back to not get smacked in the face with black feathers. "Just a Principality? For G- whatever, I'm gone for six thousand years and  _ this  _ is how you've changed? You spend your time looking down on everyone? Where the  _ Hell  _ did you learn that because it certainly wasn't from Michael, Lucifer or I, Gabriel!" 

Crowley couldn't fucking believe it. Of  _ course,  _ Gabriel had to go and ruin everything. Be his typical bastard self like he had been in Heaven during the execution.

_ Shut your stupid mouth, and die already _ . 

"Must you make such a big deal of it though, Crowley? I'm sure he's sorry. Gabriel, tell Aziraphale you're sorry." 

Michael was always playing Mother. Playing peacekeeper between Crowley and Gabriel. She probably didn't believe Gabriel should apologize. Was just trying to placate Crowley. 

"No, no no no if Gabriel thinks that the lesser angel is below him and can be spoken to like that, that's  _ fine.  _ It's just he's better leave, because if a  _ Principality _ is too low-ranking for politeness, he shouldn't even be  _ looking  _ at a low-ranking demon! Doubtlessly it's  _ far  _ beneath him, he must only deal with Dukes of Hell or higher!" Crowley snarled. 

"Brother, that's  _ not  _ what I said!" Gabriel protested. 

"Well then what  _ did  _ you say, Gabriel?" 

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Crowley, Gabriel  _ does  _ outrank him and you're being overdramatic!" Michael protested. 

"No, you don't get it, do you, Michael? You're some of the highest ranking angels and people don't  _ dare  _ talk down to you, so you don't get it! You don't get how millennia of people disrespecting you and degrading you because they think they're better than you starts to grate after a while!" Crowley shouted. 

"And you presume you do, Serpent of Eden?" 

"What, do you think that's a title? Because it's just an alias. Hastur started using it once I stopped going by Crawly, because calling me Serpent still puts me at his feet. I have no authority in Hell and it's been six thousand years since I had a rank that let me treat people like you do and I never did treat them that way to start with!" 

Crowley had known they wouldn't be the same. Had known his siblings would have changed over the years, just like he had. 

But this wasn't the sort of change he had expected. "Isn't love a fucking virtue? It was when I left, so why aren't you celestial types showing it?" 

"Crowley, really, it's not a big deal, dear." Aziraphale said quietly. 

Only it was. 

_ Nobody  _ got to talk to Aziraphale like that. 

"You're not  _ just  _ a demon, you were  _ Raphael!"  _

"And I'm not anymore, you would do well to remember that! Raphael and Samael aren't around anymore, Gabriel, you're stuck with myself and Lucifer!" 

"Alright, then why does it matter to a demon if I say something to an angel under  _ my command?"  _ Gabriel's voice got louder as he finished. He took a step forward.

Crowley had never been afraid of his younger brother. He certainly wasn't now. "Do you know why, Gabriel? Because he's my best friend, and I care about his feelings, and he's been at my side for a  _ hell _ of a lot longer than you have!" 

Gabriel reeled backwards as though he had been struck. "I didn't know where you were I couldn't find you!" 

"And did you ever look? Because Michael knew it was me five minutes after she saw me again, and she didn't have the advantage of knowing I fell!" 

"Well-"

Michael stepped between Gabriel and Crowley. "Gabriel, I think we should go. This is getting escalated and it's going to attract attention and I don't like watching my brothers fight." 

It was impossible to tell who's side she was on, although Crowley bitterly figured that it was Gabriel's. 

Gabriel looked like he might protest. Crowley fixed him with a glare. "You heard our sister.  _ Out."  _

He pointed at the door. 

Gabriel scurried out. Crowley pretended not to see the hurt on his face. Michael shot him one last conflicted look and left with her brother. 

A gently hand came to rest on Crowley's shoulder, soft fingers stroked through his black feathers. 

"You didn't have to send them away for my sake, Crowley." 

"Yes I did. He doesn't get to talk to you like that. You and I have spent  _ millennia  _ being spoken to like that and I'm not going to make you take it from my brother any longer." 

Aziraphale sighed. 

"They'll never know. They'll never know what it's like to always be spoken to like you're less than everyone around you. And maybe I should be glad I fell so that I didn't turn out like  _ that _ ." 

"I doubt you have it in you to do so, dear boy." 

"If you're about to go on about how I'm a good person again, I'm going to leave. No offense, angel, but I'm not really in the mood to hear it," Crowley said. 

Aziraphale shook his head. "You don't have to be a good person, that's not why I think you wouldn't do it. I think you wouldn't have turned out like that because no matter what you  _ are,  _ you're  _ not _ cruel, intentionally or unintentionally. I don't think Gabriel even knows he's being cruel. Something specific to Gabriel pushed him to this. And if you want to work it out, you might have to find out what it was." 

Crowley made Michael wait for a few minutes when Aziraphale said she was at the door. 

He was still in no particular mood to be civil. 

He was still angry. Mostly at his brother, but he was annoyed with Michael, too. 

"Don't tell me you're here to lecture me on how I should apologize to Gabriel, I'm not going to." 

Michael gave him a sad look. "I'm not, Crowley, I'm just here to talk." 

"So let's talk." 

Michael sighed. Motioned to the sidewalk. "Can we take a walk? It's a lovely day." 

She had never appreciated earth's beauty, she was probably just trying to humor Crowley on his sincere appreciation of the world. 

Still, it was a lovely day, and that was rare in England. Mostly, it rained. But today there was not a cloud in the sky.

"Fine. Let's go." 

Michael, for a change, seemed content to let the silence fester. It wasn't like her to draw things out, she liked ripping off the bandage in one go. Not a believer in time wasting, she'd done many of the more instant-gratification tasks during the creation. 

Drawing things out had always been a skill of Crowley's. 

His sister walked silently through the hustle and bustle of Soho. The crowd parted around her, subconsciously, let her continue her path unimpeded. 

"So what do you want to talk about, Michael?" 

"Just walk for a while, Crowley, we have as long as we need. Surely you aren't opposed to spending some time with your sister." 

Michael sounded very reasonable. 

Crowley wasn't really in the mood to play whatever mind game she probably hid behind that mask of reasonable cadence. "You and I didn't seem to be on the same page last time we spoke."

"And does that make me any less your sister?" 

Crowley thought carefully about how to phrase his next statement. "No. But this is one thing I can't settle for us being on different pages about." 

Michael considered it. "Your reasoning is sound, if not something that had really occurred before. I shall make an effort to do as you ask."

"You either will or you won't. It's Aziraphale's home too and I don't have you waltzing in and insulting him, Michael. I'm drawing the line."

"You would pick a friend over your family?" 

Crowley stared at her. "Are you going to make me?" 

"Heavens, no, I'm just curious."

"I would. It is everything I have ever wanted to have you back, but that doesn't mean I didn't want what I already had. Aziraphale has been my friend since the whole Serpent of Eden thing. And, no offense, but I-" 

"Haven't seen us in six thousand years and would be hard-pressed to pick that over a friendship that had lasted six thousand years." Michael finished for him. 

"Exactly." 

The silence lapsed again. Crowley's feet were subconsciously carrying him to St. James' Park. 

It seemed like the location for this meeting. Michael didn't protest, followed him down the trail to the pond. "So, honestly, what  _ did _ you want to talk about. I know you're not here for a social call, you have a tell." 

She didn't, but her reaction told Crowley he had been right. 

Michael did have an ulterior motive to this visit. 

"I wanted to talk to you. About Gabriel." 

"You do think I should apologize, don't you?" 

"I told you, I don't. I just wanted you to think about something," Michael said. 

"And that is?" 

"Gabriel, you and I watched Lucifer's fall," Michael started. Crowley nodded. 

"He handled it far better than I did." 

"He hid his feelings better than you did. He also fought in a war where angels plummeted down with every step they took while you worked in the infirmary. No one can blame you for refusing to fight, but you must remember that Gabriel did. He vowed on the battlefield to go to the end of the universe to prevent another fall. He had soft methods. Gentle persuasion, trying to dissuade angels from things he believed unangelic. 

"And then he saw you fall. The methods got harsher. He's harsh because he's scared of it happening again." 

"And that's an excuse for treating Aziraphale like something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe." 

"I didn't mean that it was an excuse. I meant it was a  _ reason,  _ and you don't have to agree with it to have sympathy." 

Crowley glared at her. "So you're telling me it's my fault Gabriel is an ass." 

"You're putting words in my mouth again, brother."

Michael typically had no patience. Crowley was impressed that she was still putting up with his intentionally provocative questions. 

"Maybe I am. But what he said was  _ completely _ unnecessary! And every other comment he's made to Aziraphale was too! I have news for both of you, because I apparently have a better idea of what's going to make an angel fall than you, it's not going to be eating sushi or having a gut or interrupting a conversation with two Archangels and a demon that will make him fall!  _ If  _ he does, It's going to be because of the stunt at the airbase or our old Arrangement or the fact that he walked into Hell to soak in Holy Water for a demon! If he falls, it's going to be my fault. Not Gabriel's. You can tell him to take that one off his conscience, because I haven't spent years grappling with the mere possibility of it happening on mine for nothing," Crowley said irritably. 

"And how do you think he feels, thinking he somehow let you fall?"

"Do you know what he said during the execution? He told me- well, he thought I was Aziraphale, to "shut my stupid mouth, and die already." That doesn't sound like the words of a man who's afraid to see Aziraphale fall."

"Perhaps not. But I still think you should talk to him. He may not be right, but it doesn't make him despicable." 

Crowley sighed. "Alright, Michael, I get it. I'll talk with him about it. But he  _ is  _ going to apologize to Aziraphale. I'm insisting on that." 

"I'm not begrudging you that. I just want you  _ both  _ to try and understand each other, instead of just demanding that one see the other's reasoning. I just got my brother back and I don't want your squabbling to take you away again." 

Gabriel was waiting outside the door. "I'm sorry," he burst out the moment Crowley was within earshot. 

Crowley gave him a funny look. "It's not me you owe an apology to." He said. 

Gabriel  _ had  _ expected that. He was going to apologize to the Principality Aziraphale as well, he just had to figure out what to say. "I do. I have to apologize to both of you. I'm sorry we fought, brother." 

Crowley seemed surprised by that. 

Gabriel supposed fighting was a natural thing amongst demons. Not something you apologized for. 

It saddened him to think of his brother in a place like that. The brother he had known had avoided the war between Heaven and Hell because he couldn't stomach it and was now trapped in a realm where fighting was more normal than talking.

No wonder he spent so much time on earth. 

"I am too. I just… you're not the first one to talk to him like that and you won't be the last, Gabriel, and you can't understand what that does to you when it happens again and again over the years." 

Crowley was watching him carefully from behind his dark sunglasses. Curious to see how he would react. 

"You're right. I don't understand. But… I'm going to keep what you said in mind." 

"So you're not going to bite Aziraphale's head off next time he talks to you or someone forbid, interrupts?" 

"I- change doesn't happen instantly, Crowley, but if I do, I will apologize. And I'll get better." 

That seemed to satisfy his brother. 

"And why do you say someone? Don't your lot swear on Satan's name?" 

"Don't want to give old Luci the attention and stroke his ego. I just saw him the other day, he doesn't need the ego boost. Now come on in, I'm sure Aziraphale heard you out here and is stress cleaning over the possibility of another fight or insult. He's the one you  _ actually  _ owe an apology to," Crowley said. He pushed the door open, the little silver bell tinkled. 

"Crowley, Archangel Gabriel," Aziraphale nodded to both and them and went to leave the room. 

He was clearly reluctant to be the cause of another fight. Crowley cleared his throat and jammed an elbow into Gabriel's side. 

"Ow! I know, I don't need two reminders!" Gabriel complained, side-stepping away from the demon before turning to address the Principality who was trying to leave the room. "You should stay, Aziraphale," he said.

"Oh no, it's not a worry, I'm not an angel who misses the point, Archangel Gabriel." 

Gabriel sighed. "No, please stay, Aziraphale. I wanted to apologize about the whole business of last time anyways. It was… impolite of me. I'm…" he trailed off. 

He was the Archangel Gabriel. He didn't tend to apologize to Principalities. 

Crowley glared at him over the edge of his sunglasses. 

"I'm sorry." 

Aziraphale looked stunned. "You're apologizing?" 

"Yes." 

He gave a little smile. "Well, then I suppose you're forgiven! I'll go put on some tea and we can sit and talk." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? I'm breaking my own rules and adding a promised fifth chapter? Indeed I am! This is a two-parter but it might be a little bit until the second part comes our because I made myself promise to finish another chapter of one of my other stories before I write a fifth for this.

"So it was you there. In Heaven."

Crowley nodded. 

"You tried to kill us!" Gabriel cried. Crowley winced. 

The Archangel was sat right beside him on Aziraphale's couch, and his exclamation was right in Crowley's ear.

"I knew it wouldn't reach, Gabriel, just wanted to scare you into agreeing. Aziraphale and I weren't planning on spending the rest of our lives in each other's forms, I needed you to not come poking around again." 

Aziraphale cleared his throat. He seemed wary to speak up after the fight that had occurred the last time he had, but Crowley smiled encouragingly, and Gabriel seemed to listen intently to what he was saying. The short talk that just Aziraphale and Gabriel had had when Crowley had gone to pour more tea must have helped. "I don't mean to interrupt, Crowley, but I do have a question. I don't need to start fleeing, do I, Gabriel? Now that you know how-"

"Heavens, no. Even if we wanted to, trying the execution again would require telling Hell how our brother survived, and then they would try again," Michael said, answering before her brother could. 

They were still working on the politeness thing, and Michael clearly didn't trust her brother not to screw this visit up with a careless cruel word. 

Michael was sitting on Crowley's other side. It was sort of unnerving to have her and Gabriel so close after thousands of years apart, but unnerving in a good way. 

"We can't have that," Gabriel agreed. "Besides, we may have… overreacted. A little." 

Crowley and Aziraphale both knew they only thought that now because the other victim would have been their brother. But neither commented. They allowed the visiting Archangels to turn their full attention back to their long-missing brother. 

"You've cut your hair so short, brother." 

"You have too. I imagine someday long hair will make a comeback and I'll grow it again." 

"You used to braid it with flowers." 

Michael smiled serenely. "Gabriel,  _ you _ used to braid it with flowers. Ra- sorry, Crowley only tolerated it because you loved doing it so much." 

"I thought you liked it!" 

"I rather preferred for the flowers we worked so hard to create to stay alive and in the ground, I'll be honest. The braids weren't horrible, just not something I would have done myself. But you were much more endearing when you were younger, Gabriel, and I couldn't say no to you." 

"You had a braid once. In Mesopotamia, during the ark fiasco," Aziraphale remembered. 

Crowley shot him an elusive smile. "Indeed I did." 

"You know, you're quite sentimental for a demon." 

"You take that back!" 

"I think he's got you, brother. You are being quite sentimental."

"If sentimentality is so unlike a  _ demon _ then perhaps you should leave…" 

Aziraphale gave him a look. "You should only make threats that you won't be sad about if someone actually follows through on, Crowley. You would spend the rest of the day moping if Michael and Gabriel left."

"Why  _ did  _ I move in with you, angel, you spare absolutely none of my dignity." 

"You do this to yourself! You don't get to walk across consecrated ground to stop me being shot-"

"Crowley! You could have gotten seriously hurt!" 

"I  _ did,  _ that would be why he's bringing it up. Burned the soles of my feet and couldn't walk for a month. But seriously, it's been seventy years are you  _ still  _ not letting that one go, angel?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, our  _ other  _ brother was happy enough that I got a church bombed."

"You don't get to give me disapproving looks with your sunglasses on, they don't work anymore," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley may have rolled his eyes, but no one saw. 

"What are they for, anyways? Surely you don't need something to block the light, you're an- a-"

"Celestial being?" Aziraphale suggested. 

"More infernal than celestial, angel. Now if you would stop being so offended by occult you could use that…" 

Aziraphale didn't glare often, but when he did, it wasn't fun to be the recipient. "I'm just trying to help." 

"Gabriel could just say demon, it won't kill him." Michael probably would have elbowed the youngest brother if Crowley hadn't been between them. 

"I'm with Michael on this one, angel. Sorta seems like all that talk about fall or no we're still brothers was just talk if you won't say it." 

"Very well. If you're a… demon and the sun can't hurt your eyes, why do you wear sunglasses?" Gabriel asked. 

"Disguise for the humans." 

"We are three angels and a demon. No humans." 

"For Somebody's sake, you're as bad as Aziraphale," Crowley complained, but he pulled them off anyways and stuck them into his pocket. 

"Anyways, as I was saying, you can't walk on consecrated ground or risk the wrath of Hell-"

"Angel..." 

"-to see your siblings-"

"Angel!" 

"-and say you're not sentimental!" 

"Aziraphale!" 

The angel finally stopped talking. 

"Risk the wrath of Hell… you said that Lucifer hadn't said anything." 

"And I didn't lie. He hadn't said anything, because I haven't seen him since before the whole Holy Water incident, so he doesn't know and I intend to keep it that way." 

"And what about when he finds out, Crowley?" Michael asked. 

"Please. It took six thousand years of not thwarting the angel I was here to thwart, a tip from you, losing the Antichrist, the murder of one of the Dukes of Hell and a blatant act of treason right in front of Beelzebub for Hell to decide to do anything last time. Now that the Archangels aren't working against me? They'll be lucky to find out before the world ends for real." 

"Heaven and Hell don't end with the world, only one does. And-"

"And either Heaven will destroy Hell and I'll die anyways, or Hell will finally destroy me for treason." 

"We could protect you if Hell was destroyed." 

"No, you can't, Gabriel. Former Archangel or no, I'm a creature of Hell now and if Hell falls, so do I. You won't be able to save me. Mother won't allow it even if you get a chance. Best you can do is avoid the war for as long as possible." 

"I would still try," Gabriel said stubbornly.

"And I appreciate it and would do the same if Hell won, only they wouldn't listen and would just finish up destroying me too." 

"Why would you claim to have told Lucifer?" Michael asked. 

"Never did. Aziraphale says that because I'm a demon, I lie, but honest, I don't. I just don't tell you everything." 

"I keep telling you, Crowley, that's lying by omission," Aziraphale smiled over at him. Crowley made a face.

"Can't be lying if I just omit something. I didn't say anything that wasn't true." 

Aziraphale sighed. "Keep this up and your siblings won't have to wonder why downstairs is your head office anymore." 

"No, he was always like that, loved keeping secrets. Albeit, less dangerous ones. Crowley, I think this is a little too dangerous," Michael said. "There's no telling what Lucifer will do to you if he finds out…" 

"Notice how Lucifer wasn't there when they were trying to kill me? It's because he doesn't care what I do."

Which wasn't strictly true. Lucifer wasn't there for the same reason God hadn't been at Aziraphale's execution. 

It wasn't important enough for him. Executions of minor demons, even the execution of a former Archangel who happened to be Lucifer's younger brother, weren't important enough for Lucifer to oversee.

Maybe he would have cared. But Crowley had stepped a little on Lucifer's toes after the fall, first with refusing to accept being part of Hell for a while, and then with the first sin debacle. 

There was a reason why scripture said the Serpent was Satan, and not a regular demon. Heaven and Hell knew better, although Satan wished they didn't. 

He had been offered high standing in Hell and turned it down, twice. Once before and once after the apple.

His refusal had meant he and Lucifer drifted apart quickly.

Of late, they only spoke if there was something too big for Beelzebub to handle, and since Crowley's execution hadn't been too big for the Prince of Hell to handle, not much could be. 

"We have a working arrangement. He leaves me alone, I leave him alone. We don't get along like we used to." 

The four of them had been inseparable. 

Three of them still were. 

Of course, Crowley had taken a long time to accept that he and Lucifer were no longer going to be as close as they had been. 

Lucifer had meant to fall. 

Raphael had wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back to God's favour. 

For a while, at least. It didn't take long for demons to realize there was no way back and to content themselves with their new life.

"So there's no chance that Lucifer would approve of this," Gabriel said quietly. 

"No. Say, you get through Lucifer's new name just fine, Gabriel, am I going to have to wait six thousand years until you can do the same for me?" 

"I like your  _ name  _ just fine, Crowley, although you must forgive me for the fact that I have spent six thousand years thinking of my missing brother as Raphael and do slip up." 

"Is that why you're hung up on the word demon, too? Because I know you knew I had fallen." 

"I had… I had hoped I was wrong. It was hard enough to face indisputable proof of one brother's fall, Crowley. I didn't want to accept yours too." 

Crowley supposed that was fair. 

It had been a few weeks since she had last opened the door to Aziraphale's bookshop, and she knew the absence wouldn't have gone unnoticed. 

She had convinced Gabriel not to go with her. The possibility of Hell harming Crowley in any way for these visits had been enough to keep her away, and was now enough for her to convince Gabriel he was best to stay away. 

Besides. It wasn't like Michael didn't have a plan. And the plan didn't involve Gabriel. 

She searched the bookstore for Crowley, didn't find him and bumped right into Aziraphale. 

"Are you looking for your brother, Michael?" 

"Is he not here? He had said he lived here but he appears not to be in…"

"Crowley is here, Michael, he's just being a lazy old demon who needs to wake up!" Aziraphale spoke the last half into his pocket. 

Michael looked even more confused. 

Aziraphale sighed and scooped a black snake out of his pocket. 

Deposited the snake in Michael's hands. "He was sleeping in my pocket. Hopefully he's awake now."

_ Angel? _

"It's two in the afternoon and your sister is here to visit. You should wake up and become a human again." 

_ My sssister?  _

Crowley looked up to see Michael and immediately plopped out of her hands onto the floor and assumed his human form. "Didn't hear you come in. It'sss miserable and cold and being cold-blooded in London has… ssscertain disadvantagesss."

"Crowley, dear boy, you're hissing again." 

"It'll ssstop in a minute. Ssso. What brings you here, Michael? You ssstayed away for a while," Crowley remarked, almost accusing. 

"I wasn't sure if it was safe for you, Gabriel and I coming around as often as we did, if Lucifer didn't know." 

Crowley shot her a disapproving look. It did work better without his sunglasses on, Crowley's eyes were unnerving without a nasty look, although Michael was warming up to the harsh yellow that had replaced soft gold. "I told you not to worry about Sssatan and I. Okay, that'ss enough, no more hissing. Get it together, Crowley." 

"And did you really think I was going to do that?" Michael asked. "Crowley, you're in  _ danger  _ and just you being here instead of upstairs with us is proof that I've failed to protect you from danger once before and that was once to many." 

Aziraphale seemed to suddenly decide this wasn't a conversation he wanted to sit in on.

"You couldn't have protected me from my own curiosity, Michael. Just the other day you told me Gabriel blamed himself for my fall, you neglected to mention that you also like to play the blame game." 

"I could have kept you away from Lucifer." 

Crowley almost cracked a smile to make a joke as he finally stood up off the floor, but a glance at how distraught Michael seemed changed his tone and expression to something much softer. "You're my sister, not my keeper, Michael. It wasn't your fault." 

"I  _ failed  _ you." 

"You couldn't have stopped it. Stopping me from talking to Lucifer wouldn't have stopped me questioning the ineffable, and you would have only delayed the inevitable. You can't change that I do and always have wanted answers where you and Gabriel were willing to just accept things."

"It's not a sin to ask questions." 

"But faith is blind and requires no answers. I know why I'm here and I know it's not something you or anyone else could have prevented."

"I think it was wrong," Michael admitted. 

Crowley fell silent. 

Michael saying that  _ was  _ questioning God. She could fall just for putting the thought to voice. 

No horrible fall through the ground into Hell followed, so God must have been feeling generous, but just her daring to say it choked Crowley up anyways. "Thank you." 

He hadn't thanked an angel in years. He and Aziraphale had an arrangement to go with their Arrangement, and it was that they certainly couldn't thank each other, lest one of their Head Offices find out that one had helped the other. 

Michael's smile was sad. 

"I wish I could have protected you." 

Crowley opened his mouth to speak, closed it again with the clack of teeth. 

He wasn't sure he should say it. He wasn't sure it wouldn't just add unnecessary strain to a relationship that had gotten its head dashed on a rock six thousand years ago and was just now starting to come to again.

But there was a chance it could bring Michael peace. 

"It's better this way." 

"What do you mean, brother? You're happy to have fallen?"

"I wasn't. It's part of why Lucifer doesn't like me anymore, I spurned his rather warm welcome. But I'm more content as a demon assigned to earth than I would have been as Raphael. Even if I really was off in the cosmos making stars like people think I am." 

"You did always love the world. And the stars, but you had a soft spot for earth, too," Michael allowed. 

"I wouldn't have disobeyed my direct superiors and conspired against Hell with Aziraphale to prevent Armageddon if I didn't love the world." 

"Love the world, or the angel you conspired with to save it?" 

"Michael!" Crowley squawked. 

"I'm just teasing, Crowley. Oh, my, you're suddenly looking grey. Are you alright?"

"He's blushing, Michael. Demon's blood is black, so when they blush, they go grey and look like a corpse. What are you blushing about, dear boy, it's been centuries since you did last!" 

Aziraphale had a stack of books in his arms that he was running out to the shelves. 

Of course he had to walk through now. "Nothing to concern yourself with, angel. Michael, are you here on a social call? Because we could go-" 

"Not really. I… I was going to go someplace and I thought you might accompany me." 

"This sounds like a bad idea." 

"Is visiting our brother a bad idea?" Michael asked. 

"Unless you mean Gabriel or even Sandalphon though I've never met that one, absolutely, yes it is!" Crowley said. 

"Why would I mean Gabriel, if I wanted him here I would have brought him with me. I don't even  _ really  _ want to drag you into this but I won't make it ten feet downstairs." 

"Neither will I! I'm a traitor, remember? Besides, what could you possibly hope to accomplish by visiting Lucifer? What  _ are  _ you going to do, Michael? Try to kill him and start the war that I  _ told  _ you will be the end of either Heaven or Hell, and most certainly the end of me?" 

Michael was right. She wouldn't make it ten feet, never mind to an audience with Satan, on her own. Crowley was almost certainly going to have to pull family ties to arrange it, and he was at least a demon. An Archangel would have no chance. 

And he knew Michael wasn't going to give in and not go. 

"I just want to talk to him. It worked with you, didn't it?" 

"Lucifer and I fell for very different reasons, and we are very different people. Did you consider that this puts the fact that you come visiting in a kind of obvious light? And thus creating more danger than you are trying to get rid of? I'm not gonna blame you if Hell comes knocking. I'm not exactly a model demon, it wouldn't be a shocker if Hell came back and tried to kill me again." 

"I  _ would.  _ I  _ would _ blame myself if something happened to you, so  _ please.  _ Help me get to talk to Lucifer. I have a plan and it doesn't involve bringing you up at all. At least until I know it's safe. I'll say that I told Aziraphale to get me in contact with the demon he conspired with. Lucifer already knows you did that, doesn't he?" Michael asked. 

Crowley couldn't help but laugh. He paced a few feet, shaking his head and still laughing. "You're really something, you know, Michael? You're  _ so  _ desperate to save me from the idea of Hell coming after me because of you that you're going to drag me into a far more dangerous situation just to be able to say… what. That you tried?" 

Michael stared at him. "I want to help. You're in  _ danger  _ and I want to help, Crowley. And… and I think Lucifer might listen to reason if it comes from his siblings." 

Crowley smile contained no humor whatsoever. "I think maybe I do need to escort you to Hell, sister, just because it's clearly been too long since you spoke to dear old Luci if you believe that." 

"So you'll do it?" 

"Oh, I'll bring you, Michael, but given that it's Hell and I'm the demon, we play by  _ my  _ rules." 


	5. Chapter 5

"Remember, sister, this is my domain and you don't have permission to be here this time. Do everything I tell you to do, exactly how I tell you to do it, and let me do the talking. That way both of us will at least have a _chance_ to survive. And remember. Every demon has access to infernal fire, so don't piss them off."

Crowley had repeated the same warnings four times since they had headed out towards Hell. He had refused to use the elevator or the main entrance, instead, he and the Archangel Michael were riding a bus, waiting for the right moment to sneak off towards the entrance there.

Specifically, it was exit-only, and that was why Crowley had picked it. People wouldn't be waiting for him there. He wanted to run into a few demons as possible on his way down.

He knew that he was going to need an audience with Beelzebub in order to gain audience with Lucifer. But if those were the only two demons he ran into, he would be rather pleased. He had a plan to get passed Beelzebub that wouldn't work on any other demon. The best he would be able to hope for was them dragging he and Michael to the Prince of Hell rather than stopping the traitor and the angel themselves.

"I know, brother. You've said this-"

"Four times, I know."

"Are you nervous?"

Crowley didn't even bother to pretend. "I'm walking into the realm where everyone is down to execute me and demanding an audience with the kill of Hell. Of course I'm nervous!"

A few heads turned at Crowley's exclamation. Gazes lingered on he and his sister, especially his sister. He snapped his fingers and they were all suddenly busy with their noses in their phones.

If Michael hadn't been there he would have cursed the nosy humans to miss their stops, too.

"That was unnecessary. You _were_ being quite loud."

"Do you want them to know there's an entrance to Hell on this bus? Besides, they're mostly staring at the angel who looks like she walked out of the nineteen twenties."

"I look quite nice, Crowley!"

"Yeah, a hundred years ago! No one has worn spats since the nineteen twenties, not joking."

"You can't expect me to wear pants I would have to grease myself into, which you clearly have to do."

"Oh, Michael, pants like these are what miracles are for! Seriously, when we're done in Hell, Gabriel and I are taking you out to get some new clothes. He might look stuffy in his suits, but at least they're modern. And flattering," Crowley added.

"Oh, now you're just trying to be rude."

"Maybe a little. I am a demon, after all, can't be all nice to the archangel, even if she is my sister."

Crowley shot her his best attempt at an evil grin. Michael just smiled back.

She was very sentimental of late. It was hard to tease or pester her because she just seemed so genuinely pleased to be with him at any point.

He supposed his teasing was quite forced, anyways. He wasn't innocent in that respect, either, it was hard to do much except relish his siblings' company after six thousand years apart.

And sure, they weren't flawless. There would be another showdown, another problem to deal with. Probably soon.

But it could wait until then.

"The bus is stopping. We should go, they'll think we got off here."

Michael got to her feet.

Crowley waited a few moments before standing up as well. He walked over, tapped his foot and waited for the staircase to appear.

"Hold onto my coat, it's only technically open to demons."

Michael grabbed his hand instead. Crowley stepped onto the first step.

Stepped down again, waited for Michael to join him and ensure that she could.

It held.

He rushed down as quickly as he could, to make sure the humans didn't see and to try to gain as much ground before a demon noticed that the traitor and an Archangel were running around Hell.

"Alright, now to find Beelzebub…"

It wasn't like they were normally that hard to find. So long as Crowley managed to avoid Hastur, he would be fine. Hastur wasn't likely to let him remain corperared long enough to bump into Beelzebub, and Michael would probably meet an end full of a pillar of infernal fire.

But walking around with an angel dressed in white wasn't conspicuous.

Without a warning, he pulled Michael to the side, nearly slammed her into a wall. "What are you doing?"

He snapped his fingers. Held out a black robe.

So it was the best solution he had. A robe with a hood. A toga with a hood had worked well enough in 30 A. D., why shouldn't a robe work now?

For his part he slipped his sunglasses into his pocket and miracled himself a fedora.

Fedoras were _immensely_ popular in Hell.

Michael gave him a dirty look over putting her in black, but seemed to get that it really was for safety's sake and pulled it over her clothes.

They set off walking again. No one gave them a second look.

It wasn't long until Crowley could hear buzzing. It wasn't like he could tell where it was coming from, but he heard it.

He was still trying to figure it out when a hand knocked his hat off his head.

"A traitor and an Archangel. What an unpleasant surprizzze."

Crowley spun on his heel, plastered a fake grin on his face. "Lord Beelzebub, just the demon I was looking for!"

That was enough to throw their rhythm off. "Looking for?"

"Yes, of course! How else does one get an audience with Satan himself but through Lord Beelzebub."

They laughed. Flies buzzed around Michael and Crowley's faces. Michael swatted a hand at some, but Crowley grabbed her arm by the wrist before she could do any harm. "And why should I give the traitor an audience with Satan?" They asked.

"Because the traitor is pulling rank."

"I outrank you."

"Not by blood. Tell me, Lord Beelzebub, when were you offered the job? Prince of Hell, was it?"

They didn't answer.

"Oh that's right. After the Prince by _blood_ turned it down. So since your rank comes from my leavings, you'd best give me what I'm asking for."

Beelzebub didn't look as threatened as Crowley had hoped. They looked amused.

"He'll dezzztroy you."

"All the more reason to provide me with the meeting."

They couldn't argue with that logic. "Follow me."

Beelzebub led them farther down than Crowley had cared to go in thousands of years. To ground so hot it melted the soles of his shoes to the rock beneath his feet with every step he took.

And finally, to a black door.

Beelzebub knocked. "You have guestzzz, my Lord. I suspect you'll want to see them."

And then they left.

The door opened. Crowley and Michael stepped through and it slammed behind them.

A lock clicked into place.

"Archangel Michael. Raphael, the traitor."

Lucifer's voice echoed around the room. "Come to brag about betraying me? Leading my own son against me? I must congratulate you, I suppose, for being the only being in all of creation to have failed God and Satan!"

Crowley flinched. He didn't like beimg reminded of his failures. "I didn't _betray_ you, Adam did the defeating you himself!"

"'Say it again, Adam!'"

A high-pitched, nasal imitation of Crowley's voice.

Satan circled them. The demon couldn't see him but he knew he was there. Circling like a lion around its prey.

Crowley took a step back, bumped into Michael. She pressed a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

Stepped a little to the side.

So that _she_ was between Satan and her younger brother.

"Isn't that what you told _my son_ before he was no longer my son, Raphael? Do you _know_ why he was trusted to you, Raphael? It wasn't because of the M25, _brother_ , it was because I was giving you one last chance to prove yourself, one last chance to be my _brother_ and you _failed._ And now look at you. You can't even _face_ me. You've gone back to hiding behind your sister. Your _celestial_ sister. Just like you always did. Were you ever loyal to us, or did God whisper in your ears to tempt the humans in the first place?"

"You _know_ I fell just the same as you did, _Samael._ I-"

" _You_ fell for being nosy, Raphael. Faithless, I suppose one would call it. _I_ fell for a revolution! So you may have fallen," the voice trailed off. Clawed fingers brushed along Crowley's cheek. "But you _didn't_ fall like me. And the reason you're here makes it _obvious._ You and your big sister Michael are here to plead with me to let you visit our spineless siblings without repercussions, I would imagine."

"Crowley brought me here by _my_ request, Samael-"

"You will _not_ call me that, Michael."

"Well then you're going to call our brother by his name, Lucifer, not Raphael."

Crowley felt a cold gaze settle on him. It made him shiver, made part of him want to change shapes and ball up.

It was easier to protect a snake than a human.

"Listen to you, Michael, so high and mighty, talking about _our brother._ He's not your brother anymore. Hell's treacherous little _snake_ is no one's brother. Our little _Crawly_ gave up and renounced the only family he had left."

"Crowley," the demon snapped. "Not Raphael, not Crawly. Crowley. And I didn't _renounce-_ "

"I believe your _exact_ words when I offered you the position that the demon you now want to see punished for trying to destroy a traitor holds was that you would rather die or eat the dust at my feet than be my brother."

Why had Crowley always had such a flair for the dramatics?

"So I must ask _, little brother_ , since you've done just that, how did that dust _taste?"_

A finger jabbed at his chest. Crowley rocked back, wings flaring as though they could fly him someplace safe. He was fairly sure Michael got a mouthful of black feathers but she didn't complain.

"Lucifer, please. We came here wanting to talk," she said gently, "not fight."

"And just _what,_ sister dearest, could _you_ want to talk to me about?"

Crowley waited long enough for it to become clear that Michael had _no_ plan. "You made me risk my life and bring you here and you don't even know what you want to say, Michael?"

"He's not going to kill you, whatever he says you're still his brother."

"What part of the fact that the execution plan would have had to come through him don't you get? He has _already_ agreed to let Beelzebub destroy me it's not a big step up to kill me himself after that, Michael! Hell is not even close to as big on family ties as Heaven, sister!"

"I don't believe that Lucifer will kill either of us," Michael said stubbornly.

A hand grabbed Crowley's arm and pulled, separating the siblings. It didn't let go.

Crowley switched into his limbless shape and dropped to the floor. Hard to hold an arm when he didn't have any, but unfortunately he just got grabbed again, this time around the middle. Desperately, he swapped back and fought to get away, but Satan had a grip of iron. His feet were lifted off the ground.

"And how would you rather be proved wrong, Michael? By watching your little brother who you forced to escort you here die, or by making him watch you die?"

"You don't have the means to kill him. Could discorperate him but you can't kill him."

"I could kill you, though. Didn't little Raphael-"

"Crowley!"

"-tell you that all demons have access to infernal fire? Did you believe I was the exception?"

The hand tightened. Crowley's feet kicked from where they were held off the ground. One claw was jabbing into his side, a twitch away from breaking skin.

He considered another shapechange. Becoming a snake could let him slip out of this grasp.

"Change shapes again and I will step on your head the moment you hit the ground, _snake_."

So there went that plan. Crowley didn't like his odds of slithering out of the way to avoid a foot. Not without a distraction.

"Besides, Michael. You brought the only thing other than Holy Water that _can_ kill a demon with you. All I would have to do is take it from you."

Michael had brought an angelic weapon. Crowley should have known to check that she was unarmed.

"Yeah. Without me landing a blow first." Michael drew the sword. It burned, but not with infernal fire.

With something much more sinister to a demon.

"You think the King of Hell is as easily bested as his attendants? That one wound from that sword is going to render away my essence? No, the only one that is going to work on is Raphael."

"Holy Water didn't work… ssso why should the sssword?"

The last thing Crowley wanted to do was reason Michael out of the mess she had put herself in. But since it appeared to be his life on the line and there was nothing he could do about the fact that Michael had brought the blasted sword in the first place, he'd better start reasoning.

And hope that Lucifer didn't know the hissing got worse when he was nervous.

"Because I'm reasonably certain _you_ didn't survive the Holy Water."

He was dead. He was so fucking dead.

"Now. Who wants to die first. The traitor or the Archangel?"

"You leave Crowley alone!"

"The Archangel! Good choice!"

The second Lucifer's attention shifted, Crowley swapped back to a snake, bit the hand holding him and plopped out of the grip before it could tighten around his smaller form. Lucifer howled.

He would be fine. It wasn't like Crowley was venomous.

He only had a few seconds before Satan blasted his sister with infernal fire.

He shifted back, snapped his fingers the moment he had them again, flared his wings and caught the sudden wind he had summoned.

Got there just in time to catch the blast himself. He didn't have his footing and got thrown into Michael, and they both wound up on the ground, but the fire didn't touch her.

The sword clattered to the ground.

Lucifer grabbed it and pointed it to Crowley's throat.

"You tassste terrible." He scraped his tongue on his teeth. Got to his feet, slowly, hands up at his shoulder level. He was doing all he could to keep the shake out of his voice as his eyes stayed fixed on the silver blade in front of him, which rose as he did. The hilt must have been burning Satan's hand, but it didn't make his grip so much as waver.

Crowley forced himself to assess the fire damage. His clothes were smoldering a little, nothing else. "That was unnecesssssary, Lussci."

"Destroying the intruder and traitor that have wandered into my realm to appeal to my sense of a family that isn't mine anymore is unnecessary?" Lucifer snarled.

"I really don't like that word, Lussci."

Crowley took a deep breath. Even if he was still terrified and fairly sure he was about to die, he had to appear confident.

So first and foremost, the hissing had to stop.

"You've never liked it when the truth about you is ugly. You didn't want to hear that you weren't good enough for Heaven, and now you refuse to hear that you aren't good enough for Hell. Fraternizing with angels and conspiring with one to stop Armageddon so that you can stay on earth with it makes you a traitor, like it or not." The blade flashed. Crowley flinched.

"I will gladly not be good enough for Hell, Lusscifer."

"Enough bickering!" Michael shouted. "Enough."

"Have you finally remembered your plan, sister? Only took almost _dying._ You're welcome for saving your life, by the way."

"I'll make sure to return the favour if this goes sideways."

"There's not much more sideways it can go, dear sister. You're trapped here, in my realm, with nowhere to go," Lucifer said.

"Enough of the threats and circling. Shrink down, come out and talk to us like a normal person."

Michael snapped as much big sister authority into that request as she could. "Like it or not, we're siblings and we can have a conversation that doesn't involve more death threats and attempted murders than this one already has."

There was a pause. Long enough for Crowley to believe that Lucifer was planning a new way to ambush and kill them.

Instead, a man about their age stepped out of the shadows. It had been a _long_ time since Crowley had seen Satan's human form.

All he really took in anyways were the pointed teeth and the red pupils. His hand was smoking around the hilt of the sword that hadn't moved. "And why should I talk with you instead of killing you both, Michael?"

"We're here for a simple reason, Lucifer. One that you guessed already. All we want is a guarantee that there will be no fallout for Crowley if Gabriel and I continue to visit."

"And why should I give you that? I believe I was already generous enough, not telling Beelzebub how I suspect you managed to survive your execution and not pulling you from earth and keeping you here to learn what happens to traitors who murder their own kind, Raphael."

"Ligur and Hastur came to collect me and carry out your threat because of the whole Antichrist mix up, I defended myself," said Crowley indignantly.

"You doused a demon in Holy Water that you persuaded your angel friend to obtain for you for the sole purpose of killing a demon one day! Did he tell you about that, Michael? How he spent two hundred years planning how to kill a member of his own kind?" Lucifer asked.

"It doesn't take two hundred years to figure out how to kill a demon. And frankly, given all of your talk, I could hardly blame him. It sounds as if you run a very kill or be killed domain. Our younger brother was never made for that sort of violence, so Lucifer I think the real question is what you put him through to make him capable of such a thing. If I remember correctly, he didn't even fight in the war because it was too horrible, and you've got him capable of destroying demons. You should be ashamed."

Crowley wasn't a big fan of the patronizing way he was being spoken about.

Michael was _right._ He _wasn't_ the Archangel that had hidden in Heaven's infirmary and treated everyone who would come to him, regardless of the side they fought for. He wasn't the healer anymore. Sure, he may have been the sort to be repulsed by the plagues and even attempted to cure certain ones many times, the ark may have made him sick to his stomach, the policy decision for the Son of God to die on the cross was one he had been glad to avoid, and he had never _really_ wanted credit for the French revolution or World War Two, given how horrible both events were, but he was still the Serpent of Eden and he didn't need to be pitied or coddled due to the change.

"He's a _demon_ and he did it to himself, sister. Your sweet, innocent little brother died drowning in a pool of boiling sulphur. This is all that's left. You want someone to blame, blame the Almighty. She's the one who cast him out. Made him not your brother anymore."

The sword tipped his chin up.

Crowley didn't dare move.

He'd only heard rumours about the damage of celestial weapons. He wasn't _convinced_ that Michael hadn't exaggerated about one cut, if anything he figured that it would take a blow that would actually kill him, but he wasn't convinced that she _wasn't_ bluffing either.

Besides. A slit throat _was_ a fatal blow.

"He's still my brother, demon or angel. He could be yours, too, if you would learn a little-"

"Grace? Forgiveness? Some other virtuous thing? Something that God will never give him but you expect me to? I'm _not_ going to forgive him."

"I don't want your forgiveness, Lucifer," Crowley said, fighting hard to keep his voice calm. The blade pointed into the soft flesh of his adam's apple. "If you don't want a part of this family anymore, that's your choice. All I want is to be left alone. Don't need your blessing or your permission, just the knowledge that if Beelzebub drags me to you because he sees Gabriel or Michael around, you won't help him find a way to put me to death. I genuinely just want to be left alone. As you've figured out already, I'm not a good agent for Hell anymore, anyways. And sure, you could tell Beelzebub that I didn't survive the Holy Water. But is killing me something you really want? Michael, maybe. You two are fated to battle it out, at least you _were_ in the Great Plan. But me?"

Lucifer didn't answer.

The blade dropped an inch. Crowley breathed a silent breath of relief.

"Besides. This way I have no reason to interfere until Armageddon 2.0. I could even keep up with the minor temptations, although I won't be pulling any stunts like the M25 again, that was an unpleasant drive."

"You mean you and the angel will keep flipping coins to see who does both a temptation and a blessing." Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, daring him to argue.

"Well… the angel is in enough trouble. Don't need to make it worse so I'll do my own tempting. For a while. Point is, you have options besides killing Michael and I."

Michael opened her mouth again. "If your plan is to appeal to his sense of family like I'm sensing was the original plan you assured me you had, sister, I advise you say nothing instead."

His sister closed her mouth. "And maybe I was wrong," Crowley allowed.

"Wrong how?" Lucifer demanded.

"To have said what I said. To have claimed to not be your brother and spurned you because of what you did."

"And why would you think that now, Raphael?"

"Because if Michael and Gabriel can set aside the differences they have with a demon, then there's no excuse for me to have said what I did."

That was as close to an apology as a demon could ask for from a demon. Not that, of course, a demon would ever ask for an apology.

The pseudo-apology didn't receive an acknowledgement. It didn't deserve one. Not from one hellish being to another.

Instead, Lucifer snapped his fingers.

An elevator pinged.

Lucifer dropped the blade. It fell to the ground at Crowley's feet. His palm was blistered and peeling.

No amount of miracles would heal it. Only time.

A lot of time. Crowley knew from experience.

Michael picked up the sword.

"Get out. Before I change my mind."

Michael couldn't just accept a gift. "So you won't-"

"I'll leave our little brother alone, like you insist. Good day, Michael, Crowley."

Crowley didn't wait to be told twice. He rushed onto the elevator and jammed the button pointing upwards the moment Michael was in.

He wanted to yell at her. To make her realize the damage she had almost caused. Maybe once they were out of Hell, he would.

For now he just sighed and slumped against the wall. "I am never helping with one of your plans again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will likely be more coming, since this is mostly just drabbles now, but I don't have anything to directly follow this chapter so that's that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than normal but I hope you enjoy anyways.

"Do you miss it?" 

"No." 

Crowley didn't even need to wait for the question. He knew what Aziraphale was asking and he knew his answer without having to think of it. 

"Not even a little bit?" 

"No, angel, I don't miss the great big celestial bird cage in the sky. Is that somehow hard to believe?" 

The angel paused. "Do you miss what you said it was like before the fall?"

That one tripped him up. He didn't really like to entertain that notion. Didn't really like to think about missing what Heaven used to be. 

Especially didn't like to think about why it might have changed. Not after finding out how Gabriel had felt about his fall. 

"I miss my old assignment, a little. Sometimes. I liked making stars. And I suppose I did miss the love and warmth for a while. But there's plenty of that to be found on earth, and I don't need white walls or swallowed questions to get it." 

"You wouldn't go back if you could?" 

"What does it matter? I can't." 

"But if you  _ could."  _

Crowley had never even entertained the thought. It wasn't worth it. It brought along nothing but pain and sorrow to try and think about something that no matter what, he couldn't get back to. He couldn't go back to the pearly expanse where he had laughed and even sometimes bickered with his siblings. Where he'd learned to meld stars out of raw matter. 

Where he'd been loved by the Holy Mother. 

Loved by the Holy Mother. 

Maybe he did miss the warm feeling of that constant and seemingly unconditional love. Maybe he did miss playing with his older siblings. Maybe he missed the place where Michael and Lucifer had taught him to fly, and Michael had let him help teach Gabriel in turn, and oh, he had missed Uriel learning the same thing. 

Michael had promised he could teach their next sibling by himself.

Had said that God's divine healer would make a good teacher for something that could get you hurt. 

He had missed the loving view of the humans that he knew no one else in Heaven appreciated anymore but there had been a time when the view hadn't been grey and clearly for power. There had been a time when the angels would gaze down in fascination at God's most precious creations. 

A time before the Great Plan. Even before Lucifer had torn the Heavens apart and Raphael had fallen after him. He missed that.

He missed Gabriel's laughter and Michael's fake stern words and the overwhelming sense of being loved that demons were supposed to spurn anyways. 

He missed being  _ loved.  _ And yes, with his siblings back he was loved again but it could never be the same. 

They loved him  _ because _ he was Raphael. That didn't necessarily mean they loved Raphael or Crowley or whoever he felt like being and he knew the difference. 

And for that reason, he nodded. 

Aziraphale's gaze softened even more. It was as though the angel had already known that he was lying about missing it when he said no. 

Was it that obvious? 

"You didn't know it  _ before.  _ I can't remember, were you there to fight in the war?" 

"I was around, but had already been sent to Earth to guard the garden." 

"You were in the garden? Maybe I  _ did  _ see you and I assumed it wasn't you. Gabriel and I spent our fair share of time in the garden." 

"I think I just saw you in passing. You wore a lot of greens and blues." 

"Why didn't you tell me, angel, I can't believe you knew and I didn't!" 

"You were busy creating, that's why you missed me. And up until a few weeks ago, I didn't even know that had been you. But, you were saying about Heaven before the fall?" Aziraphale prompted. 

"It was better there before the fall. It was beautiful and colourful and warm and loving and now it feels like a bloody hospital. Seriously, I hate what Michael and Gabriel and the Metatron have done to the place. It's sterile and cold and honestly it's tacky as shit. Like, of course Heaven is all white, we couldn't do anything  _ creative,  _ could we? Have to be white and pure and cold." 

"It  _ could  _ do with some better lighting. Incandescent, perhaps, rather than fluorescent."

"Could just let the sun in." 

Heaven  _ had  _ been sunny and beautiful and warm. Never as quiet as it was now, buzzing with chatter and crawling with new creations. 

"Say, Crowley, were you the one who made snakes?" 

"They had legs when I made them. Satan made serpents without any legs when I insulted him and then turned me into one, and God cursed snakes to be like the Serpent of Eden after the original sin, but yes, I did make them. I was rather pr- pleased with them." 

"I've seen enough to know that you could have just said proud. Angels can be proud creatures, it would seem, as long as they tell themselves they're not prideful." 

"I suppose to. Either way, Lucifer ruined them. Made them all crawley and slithery. Not what they were designed to be, but I suppose I did tell him that I would rather eat the dust at his feet than sit on his right side so he needed to make a form fitting for me to do that from…" 

"You really hurt him, didn't you? From what Michael said happened down there-"

"Luci put on a show for Michael. He's indifferent as to what happens to me and lets Beelzebub do what they want, but he doesn't hate me like he pretended to. He was angry about being beaten by Adam and about the fact that I brought Michael with me. If I had gone by myself, I probably would have received half as many death threats," Crowley said dismissively. 

"Siblings aren't supposed to try and kill you." 

"Considering Gabriel and Uriel forced me into hellfire thinking I was you, Michael brought the Holy Water to try and kill me only that was you, and Luci held a celestial blade to my throat, I am four for four on siblings trying to kill me. Frankly, I'm more offended by Uriel, she's never even met me." 

"To be fair to her, she was trying to execute Heaven's traitor, and it just so happened to be you there instead of me." 

"Because trying to kill you makes me like her so much more." 

"Maybe you should give her a chance, Crowley." 

"Maybe. She hadn't come to visit yet, so we'll have to see if she ever does. She didn't know me, after all." 

"I'm sure Michael and Gabriel will tell her about you. They're some of your biggest fans right now." 

"They're big fans of Raphael. Just sorta… accepting that I'm Raphael. There's no better option so I'm better than no one." 

"My dear boy, you are far better than just better than no one," the angel assured him. Crowley shot him a grateful smile, then turned away before the angel could really notice. 

His own side or not, six thousand years of demonic pride didn't go away overnight. He wasn't supposed to be grateful to an angel. 

"I'm not sure that any other angel would agree with you." 

"Well, I think the last few weeks have proven that I'm not any other angel. Besides, do you think they would keep visiting if they didn't like  _ you  _ and just liked the idea of having Raphael back? Do you think Michael would have made you take her to talk to Lucifer if that was true?" 

Crowley huffed. "You think I'm being ridiculous." 

"I did not say that, dear boy."

"Alright, you're trying to make me realise that I'm being ridiculous." 

Aziraphale gave him a silly smile. "Do you think you're being ridiculous?"

Crowley gave another disgusted noise. "Not being ridiculous." 

"Maybe a little bit, dear." 

"You do think I'm being ridiculous!" 

"I just don't think I've ever seen either of the Archangels as happy as they are when they're visiting, and you're convinced they're only happy because of who you used to be." 

"It's not such a ridiculous idea. They wouldn't visit if I hadn't once been their brother." 

Aziraphale reached out, but dropped his hand before it reached whatever its target had been. "Would you visit them if you weren't there brother?" 

"No."

"Then all that matters is that they visit now." 

The demon groaned. "Why do you have to be so  _ reasonable,  _ angel?" He asked, flopping down onto the angel's lap, so that he was sprawled across the couch. 

Aziraphale jumped, but smiled down at him. "One of us has to be, dear." 

Right. One of them had to be reasonable. And given that Crowley was  _ unreasonably _ sprawled across the angel's lap, it clearly wasn't him. 

His face soured, and he sat up. 

"Besides, dear, it seems you're missing the big picture. The big thing isn't that they love you because you're their brother. The big thing is that no matter what, you're their brother and they love you. That's what we call unconditional love, dear, and-"

"It's what the Almighty tried to take away from me." 

"But she didn't succeed. She took Hers away, but not-"

"She did. She didn't tell Michael and Gabriel so that they couldn't come and find me. She took it all away." 

Aziraphale smiled sadly. "She might have taken some away, but she gave you a new source." 

"If you're about to say Lucifer, you're crazy."

"Crowley, the new source is me, you silly old serpent. Let's face it, the Archangel Raphael wasn't going to have time to talk to the Principality of the Eastern Gate for a long time. You had to fall for us to meet." 

Crowley supposed he had never thought of it that way. 

He thought about the state of Heaven. Michael and Gabriel in their offices jobs, spending more time ensuring angels were behaving and that Armageddon was on its way than playing or creating, pouring every moment into work. 

No time for fun or games or- 

Or getting to know Principalities. "I suppose you're right." 

"Crowley, dear, this time I know I'm right. Being the Serpent of Eden was the only way you were going to get away with living how you wanted to. It was the only way you were ever going to get any freedom." 

Crowley had to admit, the angel was right. 

It didn't mean he had to like it. He didn't have to like that falling was the only way he could have ever found joy in life. 

The Almighty, his  _ Mother _ had created everything and she was supposed to have created it perfectly, so why would she create him to walk a tightrope until he inevitably fell where no wings could catch him? 

It wasn't  _ fair _ . 

It had been a long time since the former Archangel had considered the possibility of God ever being fair. "So this is just her form of 'love is suffering.' Bloody  _ typical _ ."

"That depends on if you found love through the fall, Crowley." 

"And I haven't made that obvious?" 

"I don't know. You've never said anything on the topic." 

Crowley looked over at him. 

Aziraphale was smiling down at him, seeming amused. 

"You're laughing at me! Come on, angel, you must know." 

"It would be nice to hear you say it, though."

"I could say the same, couldn't I?" 

Aziraphale laughed. 

"I've been telling you for years. Hamlet is still one of Shakespeare's most famous plays, angel. All of that  _ Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love  _ goop is taught in classrooms with the only humans who acknowledge it was a rubbish play that a demon miracled into success for  _ you." _

"You did that in exchange for Edinburgh, Crowley," Aziraphale said.

"I did that because you asked me to. And there's the bastille, of course. I was  _ avoiding _ Paris until I heard about you. No one in their right mind would have gone into Paris during the revolution, except you." 

"You said you were in the area!" 

"I was in  _ France _ , but I wasn't in Paris. And what do you think the blitz was?" 

"I'm sure Hell was thrilled that you blew up a church."

"I blew up a church to save an angel and his books, although what Hell never learned won't hurt them. M'point is, angel, I've been saying it for centuries and you haven't been listening, but if you need me to spell it out, I guess I could do that." 

"It couldn't hurt, now could it, dear boy?" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. 

"For all you know, demons aren't allowed to say it and it  _ could _ hurt."

"It's not going to hurt you, I wasn't created yesterday." 

Crowley smiled fondly at the angel, laid himself back out across the couch. 

It wasn't like he didn't  _ want  _ to say it, he had just wanted to pick his moment. 

Then again, this was the sort of moment he would have picked. Now that everything was out in the open, why not open up about one more thing? Why not just get everything out in the air?

Truth be told, it wasn’t like he had a reason not to, he was just nervous, and clearly there was no reason to be nervous. 

“Fine then, angel, if you insist. I think I may be in love with you.”

“Well then my centuries of charming you haven’t gone to waste.” 


	7. Chapter 7

"Uriel, dear, I assure you that you needn't worry about where Gabriel and I have been going. It's no concern," Michael said. 

Uriel glared at her. "I  _ know  _ where you've been going, Michael, and that's why I'm worried! You've been visiting the traitors and I don't know why!" 

Michael sighed. "It doesn't matter, dear sister. It's not something you would understand."

Which was true, but the hurt and angered look on Uriel's face suggested that it wasn't appreciated, true or not. 

"Listen, it's a family affair, Uriel." 

"Well then explain to me what's so important that my two older siblings know but I don't. I'm your sister and your family is my family! Besides, how could Heaven or Hell's traitor have anything to do with our family?" Uriel demanded. 

Michael supposed, in that moment, it might be cruel, keeping her youngest sister in the dark about this whole situation. Sure, Uriel had never met Raphael, she had been born after the Fall and after the Almighty had reported that Raphael had retreated into the cosmos to expand it and would not be returning for a long while. 

After the Almighty had lied about what She had done to Michael's brother. Made her happy for him instead of letting her know that her poor dear brother was being made to suffer for his soft heart and endless curiosity. 

She had yet to  _ ask  _ Crowley what he had asked in order to fall. She knew Gabriel would know, he had heard the conversation, but it felt wrong to not get the answer directly from Crowley. Felt deceitful and cruel and like she was sneaking around behind her brother's back.

"Uriel, it only involved-"

"Let me guess. The older four. You, Gabriel, Raphael and that one we don't talk about." 

"Is that resentment I hear, dear sister?" 

"I'm sick of being left in the dark because I'm the youngest! It feels like  _ Raphael  _ is more involved in your secrets and he's been gone since before I was born," Uriel said simply. 

"Well, now that you mention it…" 

Raphael  _ was  _ more involved in this one. "Fine. Do you really want to know, Uriel?" 

"Yes!" 

If she just said it, she sounded crazy. Uriel didn't know what Raphael had looked like, golden eyes and flaming red curls and stars sparkling across his skin that had since faded into scars and then nothing as millenia passed by, wouldn't see the resemblance like Michael had. 

Didn't know that Raphael had fallen, like Gabriel had. 

Uriel had no reason to believe Crowley was anything more than Hell's rebellious demon whom as far as Heaven was concerned, had corrupted the Principality Aziraphale beyond hope of salvation. 

Which was true, in a way, but there was more to it. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Uriel." 

"Well you haven't even tried, have you?" 

Michael sighed. "Why don't you just come see for yourself, sister?"

Uriel looked at her suspiciously. "Why should I want to visit the traitors?" 

"Because it has to do with our family. Specifically, Raphael." 

Uriel suddenly looked interested. 

She had grown up with tales of her older brother, her softhearted, gentle, curious older brother, but she had never met him. She'd heard the stories of his created galaxies and how he'd cleaned up and healed his siblings after squabbles or games that got out of hand, how he'd walked the battleground of Heaven and Hell and healed every being who would let him, indiscriminate, oblivious and uncaring as to which side they had fought on. 

But she'd never met him. She didn't know what he sounded like, looked like, wouldn't recognize the faint remnants of his aura that still clung to him with every angelic miracle he performed. 

She would see hear and sense nothing but Hell's treacherous demon. 

"Is he back? Why would he be staying with the traitors?" 

"He's not staying with the traitors." 

It was far more complicated than that. 

"Are you finally telling her?" Gabriel rushed over, dropping his stack of paperwork onto a random desk he passed. 

"Showing, more like."

"Good. I'll go with you. I haven't seen him since before you did your little excursion to visit-"

"Maybe keep the details low until Uriel knows the whole truth, brother?" 

Gabriel shot her a sheepish smile. "Right. Sorry. Now come on, let's get going!" 

"We're going to visit the traitors without armorment." 

Uriel didn't sound impressed by that decision. 

"Yes we are. Do you want to be included or not, little sister? If you do, you'd best agree and we can get moving." 

"And what if they try to finish what they started? Aziraphale spat fire at us!" 

"I assure you, sister, it's not something he intends to do again. Now, let's get going," Gabriel said impatiently. 

Michael smiled at him. It was sweet, really, how easily he had gone from strict and stern to an excited little brother again. 

She hadn't realized how much their family had missed Raphael until she had realized who Crowley was. She just had to watch her youngest brother to see it. 

She knew you could probably see it in her, too. 

It was a good kind of change. 

"I don't get it would someone mind explaining what  _ exactly _ is going on and why Gabriel is more excited than I've seen him in  _ millenia  _ to go and visit some traitors?" 

"Patience, Uriel, that is what you're coming with us to find out," Michael said with a smile. "Now, we should get going. If it gets too near supper, he won't be there." 

"I fail to see what this could possibly have to do with a missing archangel." 

"You'll see soon." 

Gabriel was practically skipping his way to the elevator. "Hurry up, sisters!" 

Uriel rolled her eyes and stepped into the elevator. 

Michael smiled to herself and stepped in. 

Crowley knew he was getting ambushed with a hug when the knock at the door rang through the bookshop. 

There was no mistaking Gabriel's distinct pattern that he knocked on the old wooden door. 

He smiled at Aziraphale, seated across from him, placed his wine glass on the table beside the couch and went to answer the door. 

Sure enough, he immediately got the breath he didn't need squeezed out of him the way only his younger brother could manage to do.

"Gabe, I can't breathe!" 

"You don't need to breathe, Crowley!" Gabriel said with a grin. 

Crowley supposed he was right. 

And besides. After a quick glance behind Gabriel and passed Michael, he wasn’t really able to do much breathing. 

“Why is  _ she _ here?” 

“Crowley, she’s-”

“Just shy of the one who actually _ hit _ Aziraphale? Yeah, I know about that whole interaction.”

“I apologized, and I’m sure Uriel will too if you stop getting angry and let her in the bookshop. You weren’t this mad at Gabriel, and I’m led to believe he had a much more offensive role in everything that happened to Aziraphale,” Michael said.

“Hey! Why did I get pulled into this? I apologized just like you did, Michael!”

“Maybe it’s because I actually have a rapport with Gabriel. Uriel is just my replacement.”

Michael shook her head. “No, Uriel replaced  _ Lucifer _ . Sandalphon was promoted to replace you.”

“Promoted? So  _ that’s _ why he’s such an odd duck.”

“Does anyone want to explain to me what is going on?” Uriel interrupted the playful bickering. 

Crowley fixed her with a glare over his sunglasses. 

He had never met Uriel in heaven. He had fallen before her creation.

His Holy Mother had robbed him of Michael’s promise of being able to teach the next sibling how to fly.

He had been  _ so  _ looking forward to teaching the next sibling to fly. Michael and Lucifer, then Samael, had let him help with Gabriel but he had been too young and inexperienced to do it himself.

It had been his first thought when he had discovered the existence of another archangel, another sibling, unlike the promoted Sandalphon that came after his little sister, and it was his first thought gazing at her now.

The refret only lasted a second before hard resentment for her solidified. He hadn’t lied. His reason was simple.

He had memories in the garden, flying, laughing and creating with his younger brother. 

Uriel had none of that going for her. 

His first  _ memory  _ of her was the kidnapping that she and Sandalphon had arranged. Before that, he knew that like the other Archangels, she had threatened and intimidated his angel. 

"Come on now, Crowley."

"Why are we here?" Uriel asked, "he clearly doesn't want us to be here!" 

“He’s mad at  _ you _ in particular, Uriel.”

“I can’t say I’m impressed by you bringing her here without any warning either, Michael. What makes you think I’m interested in meeting this particular sister of mine?”

“I am  _ not _ your sister! I was told I was being brought here for something about Raphael!” 

“Whom you have never met, and whom you don’t know what he looks like or who he is anymore. You  _ were _ brought here to meet Raphael, but he’s not interested until someone starts apologizing.” 

“Crowley, tell her nicely, it’s a big shock.” 

“Fine. Uriel, come in and sit down. You’re  _ still _ going to apologize to Aziraphale before things get all chummy in here. He’s too nice and will forgive you, hell, he forgave Gabriel, but you still owe him an apology,” Crowley said with a sniff.

“I can’t see how a  _ demon _ can demand an apology from an archangel.”

“Would you just go inside, Uriel? You wanted to come, now go inside like he asks, and hear him out,” Gabriel said impatiently. 

Uriel sighed and stepped into the bookstore. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow at his siblings. “So. I don’t get a say in meeting the youngest sister, do I?”

“We didn’t really, either. She was getting suspicious. And, she  _ is _ your sister. She should have met you six thousand years ago!”

Crowley huffed and followed the archangel into the bookshop. 

Aziraphale was already nervously making tea, cringing under Uriel's harsh gaze. 

"Sit down, Uriel. And stop glaring at Aziraphale, you're being a bad houseguest," Crowley ordered. 

"I don't take orders from the Serpent of Eden."

"Uriel, listen to Crowley or you're going home and we're never going to explain these visits.” Gabriel flopped down onto the couch. Aziraphale handed him a cup of tea. 

Uriel sat down beside him, prim and proper. She turned from glaring at Aziraphale to glaring at Crowley. 

Crowley sat down across from his siblings. Aziraphale gave him a reassuring smile and left the room. 

Michael motioned to Crowley. “It’ll sound better coming from you, you’re the only one who knows what happened.”

“Only because you’ve never asked what happened.”   
“I assumed you didn’t want to talk about it," Michael said defensively. "You always seemed to dodge the questions I asked about the fall." 

"I suppose I did. Either way, settle in, have some tea, Uriel, and get ready for something that I guarantee you will not believe."

"We're backing you unless you say something that is  _ actually  _ not true, Crowley. She has no reason to disbelieve you.”

“Except that this has to be one of the most unbelievable statements in the history of the universe.”

“Just start talking,  _ serpent,” _ Uriel snapped. 

“Fine. Surely you know that in the beginning, there were four archangels. Michael,” Crowley pointed to his sister, “and her counterpart, Lucifer, then called Samael, Gabriel,” he pointed now at his brother, “and Raphael.” 

“Everyone knows that.”

“There’s an entire faction of the Christian faith that believes Raphael didn’t exist, but sure, I’ll give you that one,” Crowley conceded, “either way, then Lucifer led his big revolution, there was a war in which almost all the angels fought, with certain neutral exceptions, including Raphael, who spent his time healing the wounded.”

“We’ve all heard that story, too. When are you going to get to the part I don’t know?”

“Uriel, where do you think that our brother Raphael is now?” Michael asked, tone pleasant, even. She sat on the arm of the chair, crossed her ankles with an air of delicateness. 

“Our Holy Mother told us through the Metatron that she sent the archangel Raphael to create the stars on the outermost edges of the universe. To continue space as far as the humans can follow it,” Uriel said. 

Crowley sighed. “I do  _ know _ that’s what the Almighty told the heavenly host, but it isn’t true.”   
“And how would you know?” Uriel demanded. 

“If you let him finish, Uriel, he’ll tell you.” 

“I would know, because I know that after the fall, after the trial of Lucifer and the Fall of all the traitorous angels, Raphael had questions. He’d always had questions, but now he had more and they were more dangerous. That was before the days when the Almighty didn’t speak to her host, so he approached her to ask."

Uriel looked like she was about to ask a question of her own. "If you're going to demand to know how I should know that, let me finish." 

She reluctantly closed her mouth. 

"He had some  _ very  _ specific questions. He wanted to know  _ everything.  _ Why the humans had to suffer. And after he didn't get an answer to that, why the Almighty had allowed Lucifer to lead the angels astray. Why the angels had fallen when the Almighty was all for love and forgiveness. Why his brother-" 

Crowley's voice cracked. 

"Why his brother had been made to suffer as he had." 

He was silent for a while. Long enough that Uriel started to look shifty. Ready to get up and leave. 

Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. "We all wondered."

"Not you. Not the avenging sword of God." 

"I did. I just did so silently, Crowley. Learned to see the monster my brother had become." 

Crowley nodded. "The Almighty tried to warn him not to continue. To accept what had happened and not ask why. Told Raphael not to question her. But he didn't listen. He had  _ questions  _ and he needed them answered or else nothing would make sense."

Uriel frowned. "The Almighty wouldn't appreciate being questioned." 

"She didn't. She didn't send Raphael off into the stars at his own request, or to be away from more corruptible souls. She cast him out like she cast out his brother before him.”

“And who did he become? Asmodeus? Mephistopheles?”

“Anthony J. Crowley. Surprise, little sister.” 

Uriel sprang to her feet, was clearly about to argue and Crowley couldn't blame her. 

No one wanted to learn that their long admired, long lost sibling was a demon. Had fallen beyond the grace of God Herself. Was beyond salvation. 

Had caused the first sin, had betrayed his family. Why should Uriel want to believe that he was Raphael?

“Uriel, he's telling you the truth. If anyone should know, it's Gabriel and I.” 

Uriel stared at him. Her dark eyes bored into his. “I don't… I don't  _ know  _ you.”

“I got dropped through the sky long before you were born. You don't know me because you've never met me, but we knew you were coming, we just didn't know you would come to replace Lucifer. He and Michael had promised to let me teach you how to fly,” Crowley said wistfully. 

“We should  _ go  _ flying,” Gabriel said, “all together. Like we  _ should  _ have six thousand years ago.” 

“Won't be all of us. Luci is still annoyed at you and I, Michael, even if we invited him he wouldn't come.”

“I'm not going to invite  _ Satan _ to go fly with Archangels.” 

“You're asking a demon, though. Should probably check how our little sister feels about that. She  _ does  _ lack the rapport that the three of us had before the fall. Not to mention, I still expect her to apologize to Aziraphale, whether she becomes a regular intruder- I mean vistor- of this bookshop or not."

"Would you have fallen if you had listened?" 

Crowley considered his youngest sister. "I might have saved myself that day, but I don't think I was made to obey and follow blindly, guided by nothing but faith." 

“You think you were made to fall?”

“I don’t think it’s an impossibility.” 

Uriel looked torn. 

Crowley knew her circumstance was impossible. She was being thrust into the position where everything she had ever known was a lie. Where they were telling her that people, angels, were made to fall. 

That God had lied. That She had lied to every single angel who had ever wondered where the Archangel Raphael had went. 

Not only that, she had to accept that a demon, the bloody Serpent of Eden, cause of the original sin of man, was her older brother. 

He couldn't expect her to. It wasn't fair. "Michael… you should take her home. The three of us can go flying some other time, this is too much for her right now. We can't expect her to handle this right now." 

Michael glanced between Uriel, who was still frozen, conflicted look on her face, and her middle brother. 

Sighed. "You're right. Uriel, we can go home now. Gabriel, you can stay if you would like, I'll be back some other time." 

"I… I didn't say I needed to leave," Uriel said. 

"It's on your face, little sister," Michael said. 

"Okay, well it's on his face that part of him  _ wants  _ me to leave. What did I do to you I've never met you before!"

Crowley laughed. "First off, yes you have, you just don't know it was me. Second-"

"Your older brother is in  _ love  _ with that angel whom we were all dicks to, as he puts it," Gabriel poured all his teasing tone into the word 'love.'

"And your other older brother is an insufferable gossip when he wants to be," Crowley retorted, glaring at Gabriel, though anyone could see it was all in fun. "But he's right. You all but traumatized my oldest companion in the  _ world _ , between the four of you."

"For disobeying the word of God!"

"No, I'd say it was for disobeying the word of Gabriel. Sorry, Gabe, but it's true."

"I suppose it is." 

"So what am I supposed to do about something that already happened?" Uriel asked. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. "It's really quite simple, but for some reason, angels never think of it. Especially not archangels. You need to  _ apologize _ . And not to me, Uriel, to the angel whom you hurt."

"And then you'll stop wanting me to leave?" Uriel asked skeptically. 

"They never believe it will be that simple. Yes. This isn't just my home, Uriel, and I won't keep guests who disrespect Aziraphale. But besides that, I have no way of knowing if you  _ want  _ to be a quest here. After all, it is the home of the Serpent of Eden and the traitor Heaven tried to destroy with hellfire." 

Again, the conflicted look passed over his little sister's face. 

That was more harsh than he'd needed to be. He had just been thinking about how much this was for her to process, and now he was forcing the choice into her face. 

Eventually, she smiled, just a little. "I think it's also the home of an older brother that I've always prayed for a chance to meet. So maybe Mother still answers prayers, after all." 


	8. Chapter 8

“Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate, may I come in?”

A tall, pleasant-faced man with dark hair, a warm complexion and the palest green eyes Aziraphale had ever seen stood at the doorway of the quaint Tadfield bookshop.

The angel realized two things at once.

The first, he knew that voice. He knew not from  _ where _ he knew it, but he did know it. He had heard it a very, very long time ago, somewhere he couldn’t place it.

The second was more obvious. 

That this man was clearly not human. No human would call him by his full title. 

No human  _ knew _ his full title.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I haven’t yet had the pleasure of your acquaintance. I believe, however, that you know my son.” 

He held out a hand that was full of licking burns, as if he had thrust his hand into a flame. “You may call me-”   
“Luci! You’re going to scare the  _ life _ out of Aziraphale, I told you to wait outside and text me when you got here!” Crowley stormed into the front of the store, using his best scolding tone, but ruined it but throwing his arms around the stranger. “I take it you’re not trying to kill me anymore if you’re here for a social call.” 

“Michael isn’t here with you, so there’s no reason to pretend to want to hurt you. And so what if I wanted to meet the angel who has so  _ infatuated _ my little brother?”

The angel’s mind ran a quick marathon at the term ‘little brother’.

Crowley had, and Aziraphale knew them all well except for one, five siblings. Two were older than him, and two were younger. One little sister, Uriel, one little brother, Gabriel, one older sister, Michael, and one older brother.

Lucifer. 

He had been about to shake hands with  _ Satan, _

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, the frozen look of shock molded onto his face, and sighed. “Luci, you broke him. This is why I said to wait outside and text me when you got here! Anyways, Luci, this is Aziraphale. Angel, meet my older brother, Lucifer, who is much less stabby than he was the last time I saw him. How’s your hand doing, by the way, Luci? Worth scaring the  _ piss _ out of Michael and I? I actually did believe you were going to slash my throat with a celestial blade, there. You were  _ pissed. _ Honestly, bringing up the  _ first argument _ we had after the fall?”

“You  _ did _ bring the Archangel Michael, with whom I’m fated to battle to the death, into my domain. Honestly, why didn’t you just come by yourself?”

“She got convinced that you were a danger to me. I may have helped encourage that you were a danger in hopes that she would give up, but it made her more determined that she went with me.” 

“And you  _ were _ asking to fraternize with archangels without consequence.”   
“I’ve done much worse. You’re here to meet the proof.”

“I suppose I am. Either way, I couldn’t let you  _ entirely _ off the hook.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “My dear boy… are you  _ hugging _ the devil?”

Crowley turned to face him, grinned but still disentangled himself from the embrace. “I’ve known the devil since I was  _ created, _ though we went by different names. Michael was busy, so it was Luci who was around when I was taking my first steps.”

“I would  _ not _ have called you Raphael, Crowley suits you better. Raphael is too fancy and pretentious.”

“You’re one to talk, Samael the Morning Star. I only picked a new name because the million light year dive into sulfur hinted that I wasn’t really welcome to be who I used to be.”

“Had nothing to do with trying to hide from me? It took me awhile to realize that  _ Crawley _ was the Archangel Raphael and my baby brother.”   
Crowley gaped at him. “I am  _ not _ your baby brother! Gabriel is younger than  _ both  _ of us!”

"You may still count him, but I hardly consider the unfallen Archangels to still be my siblings. Hence, you are the baby brother."”

“I am not!” Crowley squawked. “Besides, Gabe wasn’t that bad before the fall. Mickey may have always had a stick up her ass, but to be honest, it’s been you who had me nervous lately, Luci. You  _ did _ threaten me with celestial steel. And tell me you were going to crush my head with your shoe.”

“And you bit me!”

“I’m not venomous. Unless I want to be.”

Lucifer sighed. “I was angry, Crowley. Adam took a lot out of me and I did know you were there helping him. And then you had the audacity to visit with Michael. I don’t think I would have destroyed you, but discorperation was on my mind.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “And this is  _ normal? _ Threatening each other with discorperation?” 

“Sort of. Luci is pretty hard to discorperate, and it’s not much of a threat for him to discorperate me when he can significantly speed up the recorperation process afterwards. Although, last time I was actually afraid. That said, it was the first and only time I’ve actually been afraid.”

“That was sort of the point. And surely you were afraid when we first argued. When you made that dirt comment.” Lucifer seemed a little offended that Crowley might not have been scared. 

“At the time, there didn’t seem to be much more that I could lose, Luci. I had not only fallen for being concerned about my older brother and asking questions, but I had lead astray Mother’s precious humans, which I still felt was a no-no. What else did I think you could do to me?”

“I suppose. If you ever reconsider my offer, do let me know. It would be nice to have a Prince who doesn’t have the wits of Beelzebub or worse.” 

“I don’t think any demon would enjoy my version of the demonic. I am rather through with recruiting and capturing souls. I am content with the way I am,” Crowley said definitively. “Performing the odd temptation as it suits me. So, am I going to get an apology for you threatening to kill me?”

Lucifer laughed. It was a harsh, barking sound that startled Aziraphale. “Crowley, dear, the devil doesn’t apologize.” 

Aziraphale expected him to argue. He had almost been killed, after all! But instead, Crowley laughed as well. “Of course not.” 

“So then… it’s just fine? Dear boy, you were scared for weeks! You came back shaken to your core! Surely you will not just forget about it!”

“Zira, it’s not the first time that old Luci threatened me.”

"But you just said it was the first time you believed it."

Crowley sighed. "Not every relationship is without… complications. We're working on it. Now, let me go get my coat and we'll catch that drink, Luci." 

He ran up the stairs. 

Aziraphale stared at Lucifer. 

Lucifer stared at Aziraphale. The poisonous green of his eyes seemed to bore into Aziraphale's very soul, if he had one. "You know, if you hurt my little brother…" 

"If  _ I _ hurt him? You're the one who threatened his  _ life  _ because he wanted to be a part of a family! Hell doesn't seem big on family, so it's not like you can say you're his family and he should be happy with that. I've never heard of  _ anyone _ from Hell visiting Crowley besides his bosses, so you clearly haven't been keen on keeping up family ties. He  _ missed  _ being part of a family, and wanted to not get killed by Beelzebub for having that!" Aziraphale cried. "And what did you do? Attempted to murder his older sister with infernal fire in front of him, and then tried to kill him! And you think  _ I'm _ going to hurt him?"

Lucifer did something surprising. He  _ smiled _ . "It's an older brother thing. Only I'm allowed to hurt my little brother, all of that. I suppose you have a point. Anyways, like he said, we're working on it. Hence going out for drinks." 

Aziraphale nodded. 

Crowley ran back down the stairs. "C'mon, bro! I'm driving, I've heard too much about how the devil drives to let you  _ touch  _ the keys to the Bentley!"

He paused, gave Aziraphale a quick kiss, as if he had just remembered he was allowed to do that. "See you later, angel!" 

He ran out the door. 

Lucifer contemplated the angel. "I like you. You have an attitude. I can't believe I never spoke to you before the fall." 

Aziraphale's eyes widened. "I never would have followed you. It took your brother  _ ages  _ to get me to loosen up.  _ You  _ never could have done it. My, you couldn't even convince your little brother. He had to do it to himself."

The devil laughed. "You  _ are  _ a spunky one, when you want to be. Refreshing, coming from an angel. I hope to see you soon, Aziraphale." 

He stepped out of the bookshop. 

Aziraphale sighed. 

"Don't tell me you tried to intimidate him, Luci. Really, he  _ is  _ an angel, you can't do that to him!"

The speedometer was steadily flying past 100 miles per hour. Crowley was sprawled across the driver's seat, Lucifer in the passenger's. 

Sure, they could have gone to any bar, could have walked to any number of them. But Crowley totally wanted to show off his car. He was, after all, incredibly proud of it. He'd owned it from new and forgetting the damage undone by Adam after the Armageddon that wasn't, Someone bless his nephew, it had remained perfect. 

"Your angel was far from intimidated. He gave me a right what-for."

"I think he was more scared of your threats than I was."

The speedometer leveled off at 110 miles per hour. It was central London, after all. He didn't feel like wrecking the Bentley again. 

"What are you speeding away from, brother?" 

"This isn't running away. This is just  _ fun.  _ Not a lot of that to be found in Heaven or Hell." 

"Some demons find temptations fun, brother."

"And some fell for a glorious revolution, as Dragon puts it. I fell for being curious and concerned," Crowley countered. 

"And yet you're the reason we can collect human souls. The first tempter. Seriously, why do you let Beelzebub and Hastur walk all over you, with a deed like that to your name?" 

"They're a prince and a duke of Hell, I turned down a title.  _ Twice _ . I have to let them do that." 

"Well, maybe I'll do my little brother a favour and make it so that you don't answer to them, even without being a prince or a duke." 

Crowley laughed. "I don't answer to any demons, at the moment. Zira tells me he extracted some promises about that." 

"It  _ was  _ your angel friend down there! I thought I sensed a heavenly presence that wasn't Michael," Lucifer said. 

"Indeed it was. I was in Heaven, not getting burned to a crisp in Zira's place. It worked out pretty well, although now it's just Beelz and their goonies who don't know that's how it went. Oh, and Gabriel and Michael might not of told Uriel, and I'm sure Sandalphon doesn't know, given that he's just a promoted angel and not one of our siblings." 

Lucifer looked at him funny. "You've forgiven them entirely." 

"All depended on Zira, really. They barely did anything to me personally. If he could forgive them, well then besides being a demon, what excuse did I have not to? Besides. I guess I sort of wanted to."

"Would you forgive Mother, like you've forgiven them?"

"No." 

It didn't take any thought. 

His siblings had done terrible things. He knew that. Mostly to Aziraphale and the world, not personally to him, but they had done horrible things. 

But it was different from what his Mother had done. 

Thrown him out for doing what he had considered his  _ job.  _ His was God's healer. He was supposed to be concerned about her humans. He was supposed to heal wounds and ease suffering and pain. 

Why should he be punished for asking why the pain and suffering and wounds were inflicted to start with? Why had he fallen for loving his family and Her creations? 

She had spurned him for what she had made him to be. Decided that everything she had made him to be wasn't good enough. 

And he didn't have it in him to forgive her for that. For punishing his very nature that she had instilled in him from when she had first breathed life into him. 

Yes, he had talked to the wrong people before the fall. And apparently, his second chance, if he had gotten one at all, had been expended when he had asked after his older brother's wellbeing. 

How could he forgive that?  _ Why  _ should he forgive that? 

_ You’ve disappointed me, Raphael. _

_ What have I  _ done _ , Mother? _

_ You know what you’ve done, Raphael! I will not  _ stand _ for it! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU QUESTIONING ME! _

Crowley shuddered. “There are some things that are… unforgivable. What God did to all of us is one of them. Brother, you  _ know _ I never wanted to fall. I  _ didn’t _ follow you, although you almost convinced me. Why should I forgive her for casting me out for not living up to her perfect standards of her perfect family?”

The answer seemed to satisfy Lucifer. He nodded. “I am…” he trailed off. 

Crowley looked at him, eyes completely off the road. “Yes?”

“Brother, I am…” Lucifer sighed. “I  _ am _ sorry. I was focused on Adam, I didn’t even realise you were at the airbase until after. I knew there was an angel and a demon but I didn’t realise it was you until Beelzebub came to get their plan, and I let my anger at being thwarted make my decision to give them the go-ahead on the execution.” 

“Could you  _ imagine _ how bad you would be feeling now if Aziraphale and I hadn’t managed to thwart you?” Crowley laughed. 

“Don’t remind me. And… I am… also…” the word was clearly hard to get out. “Sorry for what happened with Michael.” 

“I shouldn’t have brought her.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to kill you two. Just because I don’t have a good relationship with our siblings doesn’t mean I shouldn’t let you. You always were the softest of us all.”

“You take that back!”

“It’s implied in your title! The Sword of God, the Morning Star, the Healer and the Messenger! It’s obvious that you would be the softest of us all.” 

“You’ve clearly never met a human doctor, Luci.” Crowley pulled up in front of the bar he had chosen. “One look at the piles of blood and shit and vomit they wade through to help people and you would know that my healers are  _ not _ soft.”

"And how would  _ you  _ know, demon Crowley?"

"Maybe I checked in on said healers a few times over the course of history. It was what I was  _ made  _ to do, after all. Heal the humans, tend to their wounds and illnesses and ease their sufferings." 

"You never could give up a task once it was assigned, could you?" 

"Not that one. I gave up plenty of Hell assigned tasks. Got Aziraphale to do them. What was it with Beelz and sending me to Scotland?" Crowley asked. "Do you know how many times I flipped a coin to get out of going to Scotland?" 

"Beelzebub knew you hated Scotland. Hence why they sent you there." 

"I should be less surprised when Hell does things just to spite me,” Crowley said. 

Pulled open the bar door. “Come on, Luci, you slowpoke!”   
“What’s the rush, little brother? You got places to be?”

“Well, as much as Beelz is probably having a field day with you gone and hopes you’ll take a while to get back, I do have a partner who will expect me to be home before morning.” 

“Before morning seems like a pretty nice restriction, coming from an  _ angel,”  _ Lucifer almost sounded surprised. 

“Aziraphale has been living on Earth for the last six thousand years, he has very few virtuous expectations left for me,” Crowley laughed, “but regardless, there’s no reason to stand outside a bar when we could go inside and have a drink.” 

"You know brother, you didn't just get my son to prove yourself," Lucifer began.

They were three glasses in already. Crowley turned to look at the devil. "Oh?"

"I knew you'd be good for him. You always had it in you. I debated it, but then I thought of you with Gabriel and knew it was the right choice. You've always had a way with the young." 

"I wound up spending eleven years looking after the son of the British Ambassador. I don't think my being good or bad with children affected Adam much." 

"I know you've been back to visit both Adam and Warlock." 

Crowley smiled, sipped his drink. "I couldn't just abandon Warlock after the upbringing we have him. And Adam… he's my nephew, after all, although I haven't told him that. After his reaction to you, I'm not sure he wants anymore occult families." 

Lucifer sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. Lord knows the occult forces were rarely looking out him.”

"As I recall, you showed up to destroy him. Not a great first impression for hellish beings."

"Your angel hasn't left you quite so hellish, Crowley. I think you could get away with it, and only you." 

“Why do I put up with this slander from both you  _ and _ Aziraphale. I’m not  _ that _ nice, and I’m  _ no _ angel.”

“But you’re pretty kind for a demon. It’s alright, I don’t fault you for it. I always sort of admired your attitude before the fall, it would be sad to think that following me would take it away from you.”

“Following you. I think you’re flattering yourself again, brother,” Crowley laughed. 

“Perhaps I am.” 

Lucifer sighed. “Why did we wind up so far apart, brother? Fallen or not, willing or not we wound up being the only damn family we had left that could have accepted us. Gabe or Mikey would have killed us with no hesitation. We were all we had.”

“And neither of us are ready for that,” Crowley said, sipped his drink. “Neither of us were ready for being there for each other. You with Hell to run, me with coming to terms with what was happening. What  _ had _ happened.”

The devil nodded. “At least we have now.”

“I’ll toast to that.” 


	9. Chapter 9

"Alright, you dragged me out of London and into the middle of nowhere, Gabe, wanna explain why? It seems even Aziraphale knew, considering he didn't try to come along, and told me he wouldn't when I asked him to," Crowley remarked. 

"Aziraphale just knows that I asked him if he minded if I stole my sister away for a few hours for some sibling bonding time. But I suppose I could tell you why we're here, however Michael and Uriel might be upset if I tell you before they get here," Gabriel replied. 

"Sounds like Zira to just agree without asking questions." Crowley stuffed her hands into the pockets of her let's-fuck-shit-up jacket, what could she say, she had a favour to run for her older brother after this meeting, and blew a stray strand of red hair out of her face. 

She had, finally, grown it out again, which didn't take much effort when physical appearance could be altered with a quick miracle, partially because she did like having long hair, and partially because she had suspected it would make her siblings smile, to have her resemble what she had looked like in heaven just a little bit more. Since there was precious little she would do to arrange being closer to that being, she was happy as a demon and would rather remain unredeemed, even if it became an option, it didn't hurt to pander a little to her family where it didn't affect her. 

It was, however, frustrating at times like this, when the gentle wind blew it into her face and turned the slight curls into tangles. 

Maybe she shouldn't have teased Gabriel about braiding it back before the fall, then she would be able to get him to do it again. Sure,  _ she  _ could do it herself, but it didn't mean as much. 

"So when are Micha and Uriel showing up?" She asked, leaning against the hood of the Bentley. Absently, she noticed a smudge on the paint and took a second to scrape it away with a glossy black fingernail, the idea of using a miracle never even occuring to her. 

"They just had a few things to finish upstairs, they said they would meet us here and that I should go get you."

"They knew I would want to drive."

"They know you adore this car, Crowley, and often forget that you can miracle yourself places, so it was better to come early. None of us have ever miracled a demon before, don't know how it would go."

The hitch in his throat at the word 'demon' had gotten considerably less noticeable with time. Crowley knew her brother would still rather avoid it entirely, pretend as though she were still the archangel she had once been, but it was meaningful progress for him to have come this far. "Works fine."

"Of course you two have reason to know that," Gabriel laughed, "Aziraphale and his frivolous miracles."

"He almost got discorporated over that note you sent him, you realize? Thought you would consider it frivolous if he snapped himself out of the bastille in Paris. Or he was just hoping I would arrive and help."

"The first thing he did when you freed him was miraculously swap clothes with the guard. I doubt he was worried about the type of miracles he performed. How did you manage to excuse that downstairs, sister?"

"I didn't. Beelzebub had a jolly good time making me suffer for that one. Aziraphale would know, if I told him, that not getting away with it happens to be why I slept through most of the subsequent century." 

It took Crowley a moment to notice that Gabriel was staring at her, violet eyes wide with shock. "Something wrong, brother?" 

"They hurt you down there?" He gasped. "Actually, physically hurt you? I know you've lectured me that there are other ways to hurt and that heaven hurts plenty of people, but actually physically hurt you?" 

Crowley laughed, not her normal laugh when something actually funny happened, but one she used almost like a scoff. "Of course they did, Gabe, it's Hell! Only reason I got away with the blitz bombing was because I blew up a church and only saved some books they couldn't tie back to an angel. Surprised you let Aziraphale save me, though." 

"We didn't actually notice it was you he saved. Figured he was just protecting human life. Unnecessary at the time, but not harmful, and we had certainly seen worse. Crowley, what  _ does  _ Hell do to demons who help angels?" 

"I don't want to get into it." 

The manner in which Crowley said it had Gabriel wishing he had never asked it of her in the first place. This was meant to be a pleasant outing with siblings, not time to drag up old and painful memories.

Thankfully, Michael and Uriel picked that moment to arrive, and Gabriel was mercifully spared the consequences of his question. 

"You look different, sister, did you get a new coat?" Uriel asked, looking puzzled. 

"Nope, had this since the 70s, only wear it for special occasions." 

That was close enough to the truth. 

"And what special occasion could my lovesick demonic little sister be celebrating? It's certainly not dressed up enough for it to be an anniversary…" 

"Oh, someone save me, I've turned Michael into a gossip and now I'm going to pay for it. No, it's not an anniversary. I wore this coat to remap the M25, if you insist on knowing. One of my most noted achievements downstairs, at least of the ones I didn't lie about doing." 

"Didn't remapping the M25 end terribly for you, Crowley? Most would agree that the dread sigil odegra is not one you want to drive on," Gabriel remarked. 

"The Bentley didn't seem to enjoy driving through it, I'll give you that."

“The Bentley that you drove here?” Uriel asked. 

“Adam set it back when he set the world back. Before that, Zira’s bookshop and the Bentley were burnt to a nice crisp. So, what are we doing out here? You guys can tell me now that everyone is here," Crowley said. 

"I suppose we can. We're going flying," Gabriel declared. At the same time he spoke, his wings unfurled. Huge, topaz wings. Only one set, that would have to be voluntary, archangels had three pairs of wings. 

"So, I know what colour Michael's are, what about you?" Crowley immediately changed the subject, turned to Uriel.

She smiled and unfolded her own. 

They seemed white and normal, but the sun shone and reflected with a rainbow sheen. "Opal, I see." 

And all of the sudden she was slightly embarrassed. 

Once upon a time, she would have matched the jewel tones. Michael and Lucifer had both had ruby red, Gabriel had topaz, Uriel opal and six thousand years ago, she'd had sapphire.

But not anymore. Now they were jet black.

"Come on, Crowley, it's been ages since we all went flying! You were supposed to get to teach Uriel!" Michael cried. 

"I know, I just… it's been a while," she lied.

Gabriel considered her for half a second before speaking up. "Michael? Uriel? Can I talk to Crowley for a second?" He asked. 

Her sisters looked surprised. "Go ahead," Michael said. 

Gabriel grabbed Crowley by the wide sleeve of her high vis jacket and pulled her backwards, behind the Bentley. 

"Are you okay?" 

"What makes you think I'm not?" 

"I fairly thought you would love to go flying again, but you seem reluctant." 

Crowley sighed. "Just a little tired, that's all, didn't sleep very well." 

"You don't need to sleep, Crowley." 

"Well, I-" 

"You don't want to fly because it reminds you that things have changed, Crowley. And that's okay." 

"How do you know?"

"You got all awkward when we decided to go flying. So what is it, sister? The idea of flying again? The Almighty isn't going to smite you from the air for daring to take to it again, you know."

"I'm aware of that, I've needed to fly before."

"Then- it's the wings isn't it." 

Crowley didn't say a word. 

She didn't need to. She didn't need to say anything for Gabriel to get it. "They separate you from us. One pair, black. But we don't need to use all the pairs, and black is a jewel tone, too, if you think about it." 

"I know it's ridiculous, Gabriel, it's just never occurred to me before to miss the old ones…" 

"Why would you, these ones are splendid!" 

"Gabriel."

"Alright, alright, the blue was nice too, but honest. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Come on, it'll be fine. Uriel doesn't even know what colour they used to be, and Michael and I are well aware of the change. I've gotten a mouthful of black feathers more times than I've deserved," Gabriel reasoned. He tucked his wings back away for a moment. "Think of it as renewing the old tradition to the new changes. Things are different, and that's okay."

Crowley sighed. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me I'm being dumb. Now let's go." 

She tried to walk away, Gabriel stopped her. 

Slipped something into her palm.

Something soft and small. 

She looked down. "Is that? My-"

"I found it on the ground after you fell. The Metatron would have just left it to be trampled and ground into the floor, but I kept it. I thought maybe you might like to have it back now."

It was a small blue covert. "You kept it all this time?" 

"Of course I did. And now you can have it back." 

Crowley smiled and tucked it into her pocket. "Thank you." 

"Anything for my sister. Now come on, let's go join the others." 

Crowley nodded and stepped out from behind the Bentley, summoning her black wings as she did. Swallowed down the little bit of doubt that crawled up her throat. 

"Are you two okay?" Michael asked. 

"Just fine," Crowley promised, looking over at Gabriel with a small smile. "We should get going, Zira will get worried if I'm gone all night," 

"Worried or lonely?"

"Or cold?"

"Oh, hush," Crowley laughed, spread her black wings, pushed down, and took to the sky. 

There was something special about her siblings following her. Something she hadn't known she'd been missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed, sorry it's so short I had inspiration and then I suddenly didn't. If you're looking for more Good Omens content from me, fun news, I just started a new story called Set The World On Fire! I hope you'll give it a look!


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